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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188093">The Curse of the Southlands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Standbackufools/pseuds/Standbackufools'>Standbackufools</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically a combination of the two in a really weird way, Because of Reasons, Blood and Violence, Curses, F/F, Imprisonment, Magic and Science, Monsters, References to Silence of the Lambs, References to Wiedźmin | The Witcher, references to dungeons and dragons monsters, veiled attempts at flirting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:47:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Standbackufools/pseuds/Standbackufools</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange mix of Silence of the Lambs meets The Witcher. </p><p>Years ago, the Evil Queen managed to steal away the child of Snow White and send her through a portal, and just as she was defeated, she cast a terrible curse upon her entire kingdom. Since then the curse has only grown, causing monsters to emerge from the borders to attack unsuspecting townsfolk of Snow White’s kingdom. In a desperate attempt to save her people, Queen Snow allowed the Blue Fairy to begin creating Venators- monster hunters taken in as children and subjected to relentless physical and magical training and forced into mutation through use of fairy magic and potions. Emma Swan is one of the few successful Venators to reach adulthood.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: The Ruined Lands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219077">The Curse of the Southlands [Art]</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchasm/pseuds/starchasm">starchasm</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to my amazing wife for putting up with me while I tore my hair out writing this. Love you, sweetie!</p><p>Also thank you to my friend Katherine for last-minute beta reading and for helping me write Snow White as a believable character in this story!</p><p>Thanks to Starchasm for creating artwork based on the jumbled mess of a rough draft I sent over! </p><p>And of course thank you Swan Queen Supernova mods for running this year's event!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swan has seen eighteen summers when the Blue Fairy decides to send her into the Southlands for the first time. She is told she is ready.  She is told she is skilled and learned enough and has all she needs.</p><p> </p><p>She is neither of these things.</p><p> </p><p>She does not go alone; two of the lesser fairies go with her, and Blue manages to convince Queen Snow that a small force of the Royal Guard should accompany them. Though Swan herself is not a guard, she is to travel alongside them, but to take her orders from the fairies and not from the ranking officers.</p><p> </p><p>Swan walks with the guards, not in front or behind but keeping pace alongside. The guards are nervous. Many of them, like Swan, are green; having just completed their training. Most have never been to the Southlands before. The few older among them, the ones who had made trips into the South before and lived- tell them only to trust nothing; sometimes the most inviting place to step could be a trap and the very ground may swallow them whole.</p><p> </p><p>Such warnings are hardly needed- everyone has heard the horror stories of the Southlands.</p><p> </p><p>Once, so they say, the lands to the South had been a flourishing Kingdom, known throughout all the lands for its fine vineyards, its ripe and luscious orchards. Its textiles had been well-renowned, and its horses had been second only to the prized thoroughbreds of Agrabah. But the Southlands had been the domain of the terrible Evil Queen, and when she’d been defeated, the fields that had once been green and lush suddenly and without warning were engulfed in a wreathing smoke of corruption- a purple and silver cloud of death and despair. A curse, everyone says, placed by the Evil Queen herself, lying dormant until she’d triggered it.</p><p> </p><p>It is said that the curse was designed to suck out the light and goodness of the people and creatures and the very land itself, for now the lands to the South are peopled only with monstrous creatures of no humanity- the twisted remains of the poor souls who were living in the lands at the time.</p><p> </p><p>Every year, the width of this corruptive curse spreads a little more, claiming more land, destroying homes and fields and farms and causing more and more survivors to flee north, to the safety of Snow White’s kingdom. Every year the fairies go with armed expeditions into the South for weeks at time, attempting to understand the nature of this curse and the cause of this corruption and find a way to return the lands and denizens to their former glory. Every year, they return with fewer guards than they left with. And the shadow of fog still continues its slow, encroaching gain on the lands to the north. For it is coming, everyone knows. It is coming to take hold of the kingdom of Snow White, and no one has any clue how to stop it.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, the soldiers tell just as many stories about Swan herself. It’s possible they think she cannot hear them, when they speak of how she’s an abomination: the offspring of twisted fairy magics; a truly monstrous creation. Perhaps even on par with that which surrounds them. It’s also possible they know that with her heightened senses and ears that draw out to slight points, she <em>can</em> hear them. It’s possible they want her to hear them.</p><p> </p><p>In the gloom of the semi-darkness, she blinks. When her amber eyes open again, her pupils- narrowed slits akin those of a cat or a serpent- are wider, and can see far better than before.</p><p> </p><p>Swan grips her sword a little tighter in her fist, but manages to tune them out. She must remain alert to the monsters around them, and keeps her strange eyes trained on the trees, in case anything should drop down upon them from above. She is struck by the notion that this land is almost beautiful and horrifying at the same time. The trees are unnatural and off-putting; bent and warped, the bark turned black and the leaves changing from a vibrant purple that fades to smoky grey. When they glitter in what sunlight can pierce through the ever-present haze, they look eerily pretty. But it is also a stark reminder that this area is… wrong in a way that instantly causes the hairs to rise on the back of Swan’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>Beneath the gnarled and broken branches, the ground-level is consumed by thick, brambling thorns and mires of mud. It is through this that Swan and the small force of soldiers try to stealthily make their path.</p><p> </p><p>She hears the caw of what sounds like a raven overhead, and turns her attention to find the source. The bird is perched in one of the trees, beady eyes watching them with uneasy intelligence. Seemingly very aware, this bird, that normal humans do not belong in such a place. The raven shakes ragged wings in their direction and caws again, before taking flight.</p><p> </p><p>This is the only type of warning they have before they are set upon.</p><p> </p><p>Later, when she tries to recount the attack, Swan does not have words to explain it. One moment, she is watching the raven fly off, and the next, some tiny instinct told her to move, and she jumps, bounding up into the closest tree. A scant few other guards do the same.</p><p> </p><p>The twisted shadows of the nearby trees suddenly stretch- long and thin, like gnarled fingers. Without warning these shadows, somehow corporeal, spring upon two unfortunate guards and wrap tightly around the armored men. They scream out in terror and pain; veins distend from their faces and the color begins to leech away from their skin. As if the shadow is draining out the very strength from their bodies. It lasts only the briefest of moments until the two guards fall silent, then limp, in the grip of the shadows. They move no more.</p><p> </p><p>But this is not the end of the horror. Coalescing into something more solid from around their feet, the mist itself forms into a thick hand with veins of faint redness pulsing through it, wrapping around another of the guards. His feeble strikes with his sword seem to do nothing, and the mist pulses in deeper red as it draws life or blood or possibly both from the guard. His face, too, grows pale and wan, his veins distending as his skin is back against his bones, and then he falls still.</p><p> </p><p>Around Swan comes the <em>shnnnk</em> of drawn steel as the guards <em>late, far, far too late</em> draw their weapons. Their faces scream of terror, but there are no actual targets- only mist and shadows. One or two begin frantically hacking away at nothing. The two fairies who are supposedly leading this expedition begin to fling sprays of magic around, bright flashes of light in the darkened wood. The shadows seem to recoil from those, but only slightly.</p><p> </p><p>In the brief moment she has, Swan considers her weapons available. She looks down to the sword in her hands- it is no ordinary blade; forged of cold iron and enchanted to resist magical effects. At her side swings a sheathed axe made of silver. Again, a guard beside her screams as the life is drawn out of him. And Swan realizes that her weapons are useless against mist and shadows.</p><p> </p><p>She glances down at her hands for the briefest of moments. She steels her will, forcing herself to focus on the seed of magic within her. She grits her teeth and channels her energy. It shoots out, spiraling and glowing and forming an elaborate sigil from her fists. Her eyes snap wide open, the amber turned pure jet black in her fury, and she screams, hurtling herself into the fray, hoping against hope that her own cry and the fierce pounding of her own blood in her ears will drown out the screams of the dying men, that the thrum of blood in her veins will keep her from watching as yet another guard falls lifeless at her feet, and the mist begins to swirl its red, veiny tendrils around her….</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1: The Errand Apparent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>8 years later</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The Captain’s office was on the third floor of the barracks- tucked in a corner directly adjacent to a turret. Swan reached it with a flush on her skin and her hair frazzled. Her face was speckled in blood that may or may not have been her own, her boots were caked in dirt.  She stank of horse sweat and her own. Ordinarily, she may have taken a moment in the outer hall to put herself to rights, but she knew from experience that the Captain wouldn’t care. It was not the first time she’d been summoned directly after completing a job.</p><p> </p><p>She found the Captain in her office, standing away from her door and leaning on her desk looking over papers on tops of it. Perhaps a map- it was difficult to tell. Swan had always liked the Captain, from what she’d seen of her. A little gruff at times, but most of those who’d fought in the War were- that slightly haunted look in the corners of the eyes that showed they’d seen just a little too much. Still, the Captain was fair, even when Swan herself always tended to skirt the rules or push back maybe a bit harder than she should. She would be the first to point out that she wasn’t actually on the Guard; she merely worked with them from time to time. She had a little more wiggle room than those the Captain usually barked orders at.</p><p> </p><p>“Swan,” the Captain greeted her without turning around first. That ability unnerved the new recruits to the Guard, the first few times they witnessed it. Hushed stories of the Captain having had her senses magicly-enhanced during the War were frequent in the barracks amidst the first year trainees. Though she’d never been in the barracks to gossip, Swan had long outgrown such ghost stories. She’d seen far worse. And, of course, her own senses could rival such abilities.</p><p> </p><p>“Captain.” Her response back was polite, with a just hint of curiosity. Her voice was little gruff- it had been a few hours since she’d spoken aloud, and then it had only been to Bug.</p><p> </p><p>Fully standing, the Captain turned to glance at her while she began rolling the- it <em>was</em> a map, Swan could see from the quick glance she got, and set it aside on a nearby shelf. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Your latest hunt went well, I take it?” she made a pointed look at the blood speckling over Swan’s cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“It did. A pair of nothics. I gave the heads to the Quartermaster.”</p><p> </p><p>The captain nodded. “Good. I’m sure you were given a fair price. Come, sit.” She gestured to a simple wooden chair.</p><p> </p><p>Swan sat.</p><p> </p><p>The Captain moved a sheaf of some papers out of her own chair- Swan wondered how long she’d been standing, and then sat down. “A new assignment has come up, and it’s right up your wheelhouse. Notsomuch an assignment as an... errand.”</p><p> </p><p>The hesitancy caught Swan’s attention. The Captain didn’t usually mince words. “Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“We need you to go down to the dungeons."</p><p> </p><p>Swan blinked. Then chuckled, for surely that was a jest. </p><p> </p><p>The response to her uneasy laughter was stony, to say the least. And she realized this wasn't a joke. "You're serious."</p><p> </p><p>The dungeons were a relic- A blight in the castle of the time before the Great Peace.</p><p> </p><p>Nowadays, when monsters attacked, they weren’t human enough to need imprisoning. Swan was adept at taking care of those kinds of problems, and that was what she had assumed the Captain had called her for. A basilisk, perhaps sighted near the border turning farmhands to stone, or a manticore. Possibly even something as dangerous as a behir.</p><p> </p><p>She did not deal with human monsters.</p><p> </p><p>She blinked as the Captain said she was very much serious. "...Why?"</p><p> </p><p>The Captain levelled her with a look. But there was a small hint of a smile in her eyes. “There's a prisoner down there. Been there for years- decades, even. The Blue Fairy is assembling some sort of compendium on Dark Magic. This prisoner… she’d be an excellent resource. If anyone could get her to agree. So far she’s refused to cooperate. But because you have some ability and understanding of magic, and particularly dark magic… We want you to go and see if she’ll let you ask her some questions - we've made a list."</p><p> </p><p>Swan digested this information while the Captain rooted around the clutter of her desk. She’d had no clue the dungeons still functioned at all, much less there was someone who’d been a prisoner in them for much of her own life. She felt a chill go up her spine despite the warmth of the day, and looked at the Captain as she finally found the parchment roll she was looking for. “…Who’s the prisoner?”</p><p> </p><p>Captain Red met her eyes.  “The Evil Queen.”</p><p> </p><p>  </p><p>A chill went through the room. Then a dead silence, as it tends to whenever that name is mentioned outside of cursing it.</p><p> </p><p>Swan could only stare. "...She's still alive?" What she wanted to ask was: ‘She’s real?’ Part of her had long ago decided that such a woman could not exist- that no one was truly wicked enough to curse an entire kingdom to become… well, what the Southlands had become.</p><p> </p><p>Red nodded. "She is. And that's a secret I expect you to keep, Swan. Everyone who goes into that dungeon without permission from the fairies sees nothing but a derelict old crypt. We want to keep it that way."</p><p> </p><p>Swan could only nod in response, too stunned to say anything, so Captain Red continued: "She’s without her magic. Without power. But by no means does that mean she isn't dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>She gave a long sort of sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “…She is exceedingly dangerous. The worst enemy this kingdom has ever faced, and that includes even the Dark One. The fact that she continues to live is… well, it’s not my decision.” A growl was building in the back of Red’s throat, but she swallowed it down.</p><p> </p><p>“In any case, the fairies want this compendium completed. They say it could become a huge help in understanding what lies at the core of Dark Magic, so it has been decided to send <em>you</em> to ask her. I don’t expect her to agree, but...” Red shook her head, as if so many things were out of her hands and she detested it. “So, if she doesn’t talk, just observe. How’s she look, how’s her cell look- is she writing or drawing anything- that sort of thing, okay? Anything could be helpful for the fairies, and you’re a set of fresh eyes coming into this.”</p><p> </p><p>A swallow for her dry throat. “Got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want your full attention now, Swan.” She waited until Swan was directly looking her in the eye- about a quarter second. “Be <em>very</em> careful with her. The Blue Fairy will go over the safety measures and details with you. I know you and the rules haven’t always gotten along, Swan, especially when it comes to the Blue Fairy, but it’s very important that you follow these. Do not bend a single one. Got it?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan bowed her head with her hand over her heart in salute and in understanding.</p><p> </p><p>Red passed over the papers. “You’ll give your full report to me. No one aside from me and the fairies is to know- one of the reasons I pushed for you is because you don’t talk about your work, and no one is likely to ask you any questions, but even so: not a word to anyone. Understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Captain.” She took the papers, hesitating for just a moment. "..If I may ask, what are the other reasons you ‘pushed for me’?"</p><p> </p><p>Captain Red raised her eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>Clearing her throat, Swan tucked the parchment under her arm. "…This is not my usual sort of assignment, as I am certain you know. I deal with Dark Magic, sure, but creatures twisted by it- never casters. She’s been in the dungeon for decades, you said? Now all of a sudden you send me to go down to talk to her, and I've never even known she was there so... why me? Why now? This seems like a job better suited for a… diplomat, or something."</p><p> </p><p>She had never known the Captain to look away first, and she did not do so now. But she did look uncomfortable. "Well, as I said: you’re available. You do have magic, so you can understand what it is we’re asking for. Arguably, few understand Dark Magic in the kingdom more than you do, with your frequent trips to the Southlands.” Captain Red scratched the back of her neck, cleared her throat, and continued. “…I also trust your opinion more than I would trust some diplomat’s. As well as your… ability to be persuaded. Unlike some diplomat, I trust that your tongue won’t wag. So, you’re our best option. And like I said, you’re a set of fresh eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s eyebrow was still raised, but she seemed to accept this, at least a little.</p><p> </p><p>Red gave a little sigh. “She knows us," she said, "The Evil Queen. All of us who know she's there.... There’s a long and bloody history with her, and she <em>loves</em> more than anything to toy with us. Over the long years, even before we won the war, she learned all the places we’re vulnerable- she knows all the right spots to hit, even now when her only weapon is her words. But you’re stubborn, Swan, you don’t take nonsense. And though you and I have had our share of disagreements over the years, you’re reliable and you’re sharp and you don’t tend to give away what’s underneath. And most importantly, she doesn't know you. I'm hoping that will intrigue her enough to play along for long enough to get us what we need. But no, there’s not any dire urgency here. You can even take multiple trips, if you need to. If she’ll allow it." She seemed to find that idea amusing.</p><p> </p><p>Skeptical, as there seemed to be more to it than that, she began to ask another question, but before she could do so the Captain lifted a hand.</p><p> </p><p>"I like you, Swan. You remind me of me when I was younger- you’re tough and you want to make sure things get done. Straightforward, handy with a weapon. Got a good bit of a will to please in you, too. She'll see that right off. She’ll see a lot. So I want you to be very, very careful with her. Remember: be polite…” She levelled her with a stare as if that would be particularly hard for her. “By the gods, Swan, be polite. She was a Queen, once. It might help if you remember to treat her like one. But don’t forget that she is also a monster, and she very nearly destroyed the entire kingdom.” She continued, half-muttered under her breath: “and she may well yet.” A sigh, and then, louder: “Be careful with her. Don't give her anything to use against you. And don't tell her anything personal."</p><p> </p><p>Swan shrugged. "Nothing to tell."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Interlude: On the Subject of Names</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>When Emma was in her seventh summer, she and the rest of her Changeling Court were visited by the Blue Fairy. This by itself was not entirely all that unusual, for Blue often gave them personal lessons. But this afternoon, she told them, there was to be a feast. When the youngest ones started to get excited, she shushed them, and said this wasn't a happy sort of a feast. She used her magic to create shadows and pictures on the wall, one of many teaching methods.</p><p> </p><p>"Years ago," she’d explained, "before any of you were born, our kingdom was a much different place. Queen Snow and King David were at war with the terrible Evil Queen." </p><p> </p><p>Only a shadow appeared- a woman who was clearly wicked- casting spells and setting fires and sending her troops to corrupt and conquer the kingdom.</p><p> </p><p>The children had heard of her, of course. Who hadn't? But she was only something fairies warned you about when they wanted you to follow rules. 'Do what I say or the Evil Queen will get you.' This was the first time they'd ever heard her spoken of as if she had actually been anything at all like a real person.</p><p> </p><p>"The war was long and hard and lasted many, many years,” continued Blue. The images changed to battlefields, to flags falling and then Queen Snow and the King, charging heroically into battle. “And just as Queen Snow was about to win, the Evil Queen made a vicious oath. That she would destroy Queen Snow's happiness and take away the thing she loved most."</p><p> </p><p>The dancing shadows showed their beautiful Queen and King, then a swaddled bundle between them. A baby.</p><p> </p><p>The changelings looked at one another, confused. They whispered in hushed voices. There was no prince or princess in their kingdom.</p><p> </p><p>The next images showed a battle inside the very walls of the castle, and then creeping blackness that snuck in around all sides. The King was struck in his side, the Queen rushed to save him. And the blackness stole over the cradle of the baby, revealing itself a moment later to be the shadow of the cackling Evil Queen, holding the child.</p><p> </p><p>“We fairies rushed to stop her as she escaped, but just before she was captured, she opened a magic portal as a last resort.” The magic story unfolded, showing the fairies swarming the Evil Queen, lashing out with her magic, while holding the infant, and then finally, the magic bean tossed in to the ground, and the poor baby swallowed up by the portal. “Clearly, the vicious Evil Queen meant to use this portal to escape, but we fairies stopped her. Sadly, the portal closed before any of us could chase after the infant princess, and she was lost.”</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone in the kingdom went on a frantic search for her. Every possible realm was checked and re-checked for the infant princess. But she was never found. Wherever the Evil Queen sent her, it was so far away that not even my magic can locate her.”</p><p> </p><p>The last image was of Queen Snow and King David, hugging one another in attempted consolation as they wept.</p><p> </p><p>“So, every year, we hold a Feast of Remembrance in honor of the loss of the precious Princess Emma.” The Blue Fairy (and everyone else, with open mouths) looked at Emma. “You were found as a babe in the woods during the first Feast of Remembrance. I’m sure the simple farmers who found you thought they were doing the princess a kindness, so that at least the name of the lost princess would live on.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma frowns at this. She knows the reason for her name; has it tucked beneath her frock at this very moment- it never leaves her person. But it is a secret for only her.</p><p> </p><p>For Emma, this story only puts more pressure on her. Now she has the namesake of some perfect lost princess to live up to. This pressure continues for a few years until, one autumn when the first frost is beginning to set in, the Queen and King are suddenly blessed with the birth of another child. A son- Prince Leopold.</p><p> </p><p>That year begins a new tradition, and the Feasts of Remembrance begin to become more about celebrating the anniversary of Leopold’s birth, rather than the loss of the princess who proceeded him. Emma’s name begins to matter a little less after that- fewer whispers in the halls when she passes.</p><p> </p><p>The murmurs become fewer and fewer as years go on, but so too do the number of Changelings themselves. With each year, more training brings about more tinctures and treatment and trials. With every infusion, their numbers dwindle, while within Emma more and more changes are brought about as her senses are heightened. First are the ears- drawing out to points. Then, several tinctures later, eyes that had always been a mahogany brown bleach lighter into amber, her pupils becoming slits like a cats-eye. Then at last comes the trial that blanches her hair entirely white, losing the bouncy curls of her youth and falling flat and straight.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the rest of her Changeling Court has fallen to training and trial, she alone remains of it. And she denounces her name entirely.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2: A Brief Briefing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alternate chapter title: A Brief Chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Blue Fairy. Rheul Ghorm. Her Majesty’s Minister of Magicks and Dysology. For all her titles and superiority unparalleled in all things magic-related; she dressed, Swan had always thought, rather like a pastry a child had decorated and then promptly sat on. Today’s unfortunate gown had long, gathered trails of ribbons hanging from the skirt, so that when the fairy was flying, she bobbed in the air not unlike a jellyfish.</p><p> </p><p>It made the security briefing Swan was currently receiving a difficult thing to pay attention to- though she was doing her best to drown out the thoughts of the fairy ensnaring a fly with the tentacles of her dress and consuming it with her ridiculous poofy shoes. She blinked, and the fairy was looking at her expectantly, like she’d asked a question. Swan had to backtrack her memories to recall it.</p><p> </p><p>“I assume Captain Red impressed upon you the need for secrecy?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Only you and she know I’m here. Everyone else just thinks I’m being either debriefed from my last trip South-” she resisted the urge to spit, this time, “or being prepped for my next one.” She made such ventures frequently enough, after all. She was one of the few who did and survived.</p><p> </p><p>Swan had the passing thought to wonder why secrecy was such a concern- of course, it didn’t seem to be common knowledge that there was actually a prisoner here much less the Evil Queen, but surely many people had to know about it. A full rotation of a company of guards, at least.</p><p> </p><p>The fairy nodded as if that assuaged her. “Good.” She seemed to run her eyes over Swan and give a sigh. This was not unusual for the fairy; she always had an air of disappointment. “I honestly don’t think you’re ready for this kind of assignment, Swan. I expressed my doubts about choosing you, but Red insisted and the Queen took her advice, so here we are.”</p><p> </p><p>She almost bit back that it was a good thing she didn’t report to Blue anymore, then, but she managed to hold her tongue. Something else had caught her attention. Why had the Queen been involved in the decision to send her on this ‘interesting errand?’ She filed that away for later. Instead she squared her shoulders and looked straight ahead. “You created me to destroy monsters. To learn their weaknesses and exploit them. The Evil Queen <em>is</em> a monster, is she not?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue flitted in front of Swan’s face. “Let me be abundantly clear: the Evil Queen is a sociopath. Her Majesty Queen Snow has tried for decades to appease her, to rehabilitate her, to offer her clemency, and she has refused it and spat in the Queen’s face every time, or else pretended to go along with it only moments later to stab Snow in the stomach. Quite literally. The last time resulted in a truly horrific massacre here in the palace, a stolen baby, and the seeds of the curse of the Southlands being sown.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan blinked, but otherwise did not balk or move in any way. She’d been told horror stories of the Evil Queen since she could remember, but she had seen far worse than most could imagine, and was no longer frightened of them. “I understand.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue almost seemed disappointed, as if she’d been looking forward to watching Swan’s reaction; like a hungry chicken with nothing for her to peck at. Still, she nodded in response. “Good. Now, the rules: we keep her sustained in a field of fairy magic. You will not approach that magic field, or attempt to touch the field. You may pass her soft parchment but nothing else. No books, no quills, not even a small pebble, am I absolutely clear?"</p><p> </p><p>Another nod.</p><p> </p><p>“Items are passed to her through a sliding magical carrier, and they come back out through the same. No exceptions. Do you understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I hope as well, that Red impressed upon you not to give her any information about yourself?” Swan nodded. The fairy took in a deep breath and looked her over. “I am also going to ask you to place a glamour over yourself, Swan. Make yourself look more… human. Best not to give a reason to ask for questions, hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>An eyebrow raised. Swan normally did not bother with such things. If people had a problem with her looks; that was on them. Still, she waved her fingers in the air and wove the sigils for the glamor. White hair turned to blonde, her eyes regained a dark brown hue with a round, more human look. The slight points of her both her ears and her canines rounded down. “Better?”</p><p> </p><p>Looking over her handiwork, Blue gave an approving nod. “Good enough. I keep her down in the furthest section of the dungeon. This way.” Jellyfish tentacle ribbons flitted out the door and began to lead Swan down the hall to the stairwell.</p><p> </p><p>They descended several sets of heavy stone steps, leaving the realm of natural light and windows behind. When the stairs levelled out into another long hall, the torch sconces held not torches at all, but strange glowing lights- seemingly magic. Swan wondered if they dimmed at all during night or remained lit all the time.</p><p> </p><p>Thick gate-like doors were unlatched with a wave of the fairy’s hand, and they were met with another door guarded by a somewhat familiar face.</p><p> </p><p>Swan knew Lieutenant Hua Mulan in passing and by reputation only. She rarely came to the mess hall, and even rarer to the guard office. The few times Swan recalled seeing her at events of State, she had looked stoic and tended to stand as far off to one side as she could get. Rumor had it that she had loved a monster herself, once, and been hurt badly because of it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Lieutenant Hua will take over from here.” She could practically feel Blue’s attention leaving her, like a dismissal. Swan was used to them, though it did not take the sting of them away. “When she’s finished, send her back up.” The fairy departed without looking at Swan again.</p><p> </p><p>On the wall behind Mulan was a long row of bookcases and shelves- containing not books, but vials of liquids and powders, each with a tiny label and even tinier writing. Swan imagined these were things to restrain and subdue the Evil Queen should she decide to act up. She was strangely relieved to see that most of them looked full and unopened.</p><p> </p><p>Hua Mulan looked both vigilant and wary-eyed. When she spoke, and it wasn't often, her voice sounded tired, but nevertheless completely in-charge. She gave Swan a once-over and nodded, before turning to unlock the door and lead her through. “You were told- do not go near the field?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I set a chair for you, Swan. I’d recommend staying in it until you’re done.”</p><p> </p><p>She indicated another, much smaller door, which she unlocked to reveal a long hallway, at the end of which was a lone chair. “…She detests all of us. I hope Red explained that to you.” Swan nodded. “Alright then.”</p><p> </p><p>Clutching her sheaf of papers, Swan stepped through the door, Mulan remained on the other side.  “When you are done, come to this door and knock three times.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded, and Mulan closed the door behind her. She heard the lock turning and then clicking into place with a clang that sounded like the thump of her heart.</p><p> </p><p>Swan took a deep, steadying breath, holding her roll of parchment in her hand like it was a lifeline to the outside world, and set a neutral expression on her face. Then she walked down the corridor. It was about thirty yards long, with cells interspersed on either side. Some seemed at one time to have padding along the walls- their doors only revealing a narrow opening like the archery slits Swan had once had to train out of every week. Every cell was clean and empty- even of straw and vermin. </p><p> </p><p>Every cell except the last one, which loomed at the end of the hall straight ahead.</p><p> </p><p>The magic, glowing lights were brighter in that cell. Swan paused before she reached it, trying to be able to peer inside before actually standing directly out front.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3: A Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Evil Queen is the only prisoner in the dungeon, and her cell is at the very end of a long line of other, empty cells. It is also the only cell around which there is a constant, glowing barrier of fairy magic- from floor to ceiling and around every wall. There are a series of bars on the outside of the cell that emerge from the ceiling and floor like a row of jagged, hungry teeth of some beast.</p><p> </p><p>The inner walls of that cell and that cell only are a cave.</p><p> </p><p>It is jarring, at first, to look at. To come from the smooth carved lines of immaculate stone to the pointed teeth of bars and then crude cave walls. It is only upon looking at this particular cell that one realizes that this cell was not built into the dungeon. The rest of the dungeon had been built around this cell.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Swan approached it now, the hard soles of her boots echoing softly in the hewn corridor, and her eyes fixed on the oddly-lit cell. She noted that there were, indeed, paintings and drawings along the walls, and that the cell was not without finery. A few well-appointed bookcases, a table, a well-crafted chair. Even the supplies necessary for needle-work and painting were contained, neatly organized, among the shelves of one of the bookcases. And there was a bed that looked far more comfortable than any Swan had ever slept in. Even imprisoned, it appeared that the Evil Queen was permitted some of the trappings of royalty.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen herself sat in the chair, facing slightly away from the hall. Her posture was perfect and her back was straight. She appeared to be looking over a letter, or perhaps writing one, though the quill sat in the inkwell and not in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>Swan paused a small distance away, well outside the distance of both the magic field and the bars. She remembered Red’s warning about being polite. Had her own posture not already been ramrod straight, she’d have straightened her shoulders. She inclined her head in what she was sure was the politest way she could. “…Your Majesty.”</p><p> </p><p>The title alone caught attention, it seemed, or perhaps it was indeed just the sound of a new voice. Either way, it was enough to get the Evil Queen to pause in her perusal of her letter. She turned slightly, giving Swan first a profile and then a three-quarter view of her face.</p><p> </p><p>She'd expected... well... she wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting. A crone, perhaps. Some ancient, twisted, old witch that would frighten even the bravest of soldiers, much less children. She hadn't counted on the Evil Queen being beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>She was lit from the sides and the front by the magic torches. Her dress was plain and grey, with a single tie under the bust. Her dark hair was long and fell in a simple plait down her back. But she was still the most breathtaking woman Swan had ever seen. And she looked relatively young- not a great deal older than Swan herself- for someone who had been the bane of the country thirty-odd years before.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, your Majesty. I’d like to speak with you, if I may. Would you allow that?” Swan made sure her tone was the politest she knew how, keeping any sense of the nervousness she felt fully out of her vocal timbre. She was hoping the Evil Queen could not hear the thrum of her heartbeat, which felt so much louder than normal in her ears. And then she remembered the stories of the Evil Queen’s propensity for stealing that particular organ.</p><p> </p><p>She was now looking at her fully. That was the first thing of note. From how Red and Mulan had described her, she’d thought it a possibility she wouldn’t even be acknowledged.</p><p> </p><p>Swan had tasted chocolate once; as a treat on her name-day when she was five. Before she’d been sent to the castle. Before the Awakening. It had been prepared hot in a cup with a bit of cream and was warm and smooth and luscious on her tongue and she had never forgotten it.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen’s eyes were exactly the color of that chocolate. The same color as her own had been, once. Before the trials. And when they held Swan in their gaze, she felt captivated, as if she could neither move nor dare look away from her. Short, perfectly even nails steepled against her lips as her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her eyes gliding over Swan as if sizing up a potential meal. She stood, turning fully to face her guest leisurely, as if she had all the time in the world and it was at her pace the world moved. She crossed the few steps to the center of the room, and stopped before both bars and field, again, as if the distance between them was her choice. And Swan noticed, surprised, that her height was tiny- scarcely over five feet tall.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning,” she said. Her voice was low, throaty, with a slight rasp from disuse but otherwise perfectly pleasant. The Queen out for a stroll, deigning to stop to speak with a shopkeeper.</p><p> </p><p>Swan stepped just a little closer to the barrier. “Your Majesty, we’d like to ask for your assistance in a matter related to Dark Magic. You, of course, being an expert of the subject, we’d hoped-”</p><p> </p><p>She was cut off by the raising of one of those impeccably manicured hands. “We?” She ran those dark eyes over Swan once again, and seemed to take every inch of her in. Her nostrils flared and her chest rose, as if also inhaling Swan’s own scent.</p><p> </p><p>Swan felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise almost instinctually, and she had to fight to keep her breathing even. She’d seen Red do this before. She’d taken the time to wash before coming here, of course, and had changed into fresh leathers- her best, actually. But as she watched the faintest tip of the Evil Queen’s tongue emerge, like a snake’s, she wondered how much she could actually smell (or sense) on her.</p><p> </p><p>The eyes once more focused on Swan’s own. “You’ve been sent by the Guard. Red’s regiment. Interesting.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can <em>smell</em> that?” she blurted out, unable to stop herself. She was used to such things from Red. She hadn’t expected it of the Evil Queen.</p><p> </p><p>Those dark lips turned up in a smirk. “No, dear. From the sigil on your shoulder.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan glared down at her leathers and at the symbol of Red’s regiment as if they had personally attacked her. The symbol was honorary- a gift after a particularly hard job she’d done with the regiment in the South.</p><p> </p><p>She then levelled that same glare at the Evil Queen, who actually laughed at her.</p><p> </p><p>It was a fairly musical sound, and echoed throughout the whole lonely hallway. Swan had the passing thought to wonder how long it had been since she had last laughed.</p><p> </p><p>She was still smirking. “The tabard alone, with no other insignias of rank. The uniform suits you well enough that I know it’s been fitted to you. You’re well out of basic training, and been with the guard then…” she looked over Swan’s face again with still more scrutiny. “What, eight years? Ten?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan said nothing, keeping well in mind the reminder that she was to tell this woman nothing personal. But she did tilt her head ever so slightly to the side and allow the odd lighting of the cavern to reflect off the heraldic rose insignia around her neck. The one that denoted her Order of Specialty. She couldn’t exactly get in trouble for the Evil’s Queen’s own eyesight, after all.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen took another step forward, her dark eyes seeming to catch on that insignia as if it could somehow bring it to her. One of her brows raised. “Oh, so you do have an insignia. I’m familiar with the flower…” she paused. “That's a Venator symbol, is it not?" She blinked, as if in shock or disbelief. Her eyes flashed back up to meet Swan's. "Snow's allowing Venators to be created again?" Her tone indicated both surprise and mild amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“…It’s an uncommon order,” was all Swan said- neither confirming nor denying. Which was true enough. “But I’m here to discuss Dark Magic with you, not the various Orders of the kingdom. Can you decide for yourself if that’s something I’m qualified for?”</p><p> </p><p>A slight chuckle, then. “Well, dear, if you truly <em>are</em> a Venator, I suppose that rather depends on how much personal experience you have with Dark Magic, now doesn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>In her mind, Swan could hear the crying out of the men being strangled by nothing but smoke and shadows around her- the dying screams echoing in her ears as vibrantly now as it had those years ago. “More than most.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmhm.” Another long, slow gaze that felt like it penetrated to Swan’s very core. She seemed to be sizing Swan up again. A few beats of silence passed while she did so. “Conditions in my kingdom must truly be bad. You’ve been, I assume? To the lands to the South?”</p><p> </p><p>The urge to spit in that direction took hold of her, the saliva gathering in her mouth to do it just upon hearing mention of those lands. Managing to resist, Swan swallowed, thickly, certain the Evil Queen would notice but not caring in this particular moment. “Yes,” she said, instead.</p><p> </p><p>A quirk of those lips again, smirking upwards at her, almost laughing. The highlights of her eyes seemed to dance. “Did you enjoy it?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s gaze darkened. The screams of dying men were fading from her ears, but she could still hear them. “I think your majesty is well aware I did not.”</p><p> </p><p>“You lived,” the Queen pointed out. “There is something to be said for that. But you’re not here to ask me about them or the so-called curse I placed on my lands?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan blinked, taken aback by the question. “No, I’m here about the Blue Fairy’s compendium on Dark Magic.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see. I had been wondering if you were simply just waiting for the opportunity to get around to my kingdom. Curious.” Still smirking, the Evil Queen turned her chair to face the hall and then sat in it gracefully but leisurely. “So then. Do you have a name, or shall I simply refer to you as ‘Venator?”</p><p> </p><p>Sore memories still in her mind, the response was a little gruff. “Swan.” She remembered her manners, and then inclined her head in a slight show of respect. “Though I’ll answer to ‘Venator,’ too. Been called worse.” It was the first open confirmation of what she was. There didn’t seem to be a reason to hide or deny it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure. Who hasn’t?” Eyes the color of chocolate seemed to dance in the glowing torchlight, as if the Evil Queen was delighted with Swan’s reactions; a new toy to play with. Perhaps Red had been correct in sending her as a fresh face after all.  “Swan, then. It does seem to suit.”</p><p> </p><p>She finally decided she was going to sit in the chair Mulan had left for her, too. Since the Evil Queen had sat first. That was polite, right? “Is there a particular way you’d prefer to be addressed?” She doubted anyone would really want to be called ‘Evil,’ even if they were.</p><p> </p><p>That got another raised eyebrow, perhaps in surprise that her desires had been considered. “’Your Majesty’ will do fine. Or ‘My Queen.’ Anything else would be a bit informal, wouldn’t you say?”</p><p> </p><p>“If you do, your Majesty.” Swan was not about to call her ‘My Queen,’ for all the gold of Midas. She decided a veer in the conversation might be needed. “Did you do all those paintings and drawings yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>The Queen didn’t even look away from her. “Do you think I’ve been permitted a decorator?”</p><p> </p><p>Some of the other items in the cell- the finer ones- looked as though she could have been, but Swan wisely chose not to comment on that. “The one by the bed- I don’t think I know that valley. Did you imagine it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did not.” She looked almost equal parts amused and offended at the suggestion, turning to look at the painting in question. “That is the view of the sunrise over the Queenswood from my palace- specifically from my balcony.” She turned back to Swan with a rather enigmatic sort of smirk. “I do suppose it looks rather different now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I’ve never seen your palace.” She’d never gotten that far, not in the countless times now that she’d had to venture into the Southlands. She nodded to the painting once more. “That’s a lot of detail just from memory.”</p><p> </p><p>“Memory is all I have, Miss Swan.” She gestured around her to the cavern walls of rough-hewn rock. “It isn’t if I have much else of a view.”</p><p> </p><p>Several beats, and Swan nodded, rustling through her papers, “Well, your Majesty, your ‘view’ is sought after in regards to this folio on Dark Magic-”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” It almost sounded like a chastisement. “You were doing so well, dear. You’d been polite, even when it looked like it was almost paining you to do so. You’d shown your resolve when I tried to see your limits, and provided plenty of intrigue to keep the interaction going. You’ve lasted far longer with me than even your Captain Red’s latest attempt; and now this poor attempt at wit in a segue to your ridiculous folio.” She clicked her tongue. “That won’t do at all.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan leveled her with a look and tried very, very hard not to glare. This was grating on her patience. “Your Majesty- I’m not a diplomat or even much of a conversationalist. I’m not here to try and start a debate with you or play any sort of ‘will she-won’t she’ games. I’m asking you to look at this document and fill it out if you so choose. You will or you won’t, and that’s up to you. What’s the harm in at least taking a look?”</p><p> </p><p>The Queen seemed to give a great sigh, in through her nose and then back out the same. “The Blue Fairy compiled that… folio.” There was obvious distaste for the fairy both in her eyes and in her tone as she said it. “So there could indeed be harm in it.” Her eyes wandered over Swan once more. “I don’t think I need to tell you that.”</p><p> </p><p>Her jaw clenched tightly, the papers in her hand crinkling as her fist squeezed them without her even being aware of it. “How do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to recite your history for you? Very well.” The Evil Queen stood at last from her chair, approaching the jagged bars now closer than she had ever before. Standing directly in front of Swan, the field shimmered between them. “As I recall, the fairies’ practice of creating Venators was outlawed generations ago, much to the Rheul Ghorm’s chagrin. ‘Too cruel and dangerous a process to undergo,’ it was determined, as only one in ten children would live at all, and among those that survived, some had a tendency of not living long enough afterwards for it to be worthwhile. The fact that Snow has allowed it to restart tells me much about her current state of affairs.” There was a smirk tugging at the edge of her lips at that.</p><p> </p><p>Then her eyes seemed to both focus and unfocus at the same time. As if she was looking at Swan and also looking at something within her. The very faintest bit of purple began to gather in the Queen’s irises the longer she looked. And Swan was looking intently, her fingers very slowly beginning to inch towards her sword, out of habit only, perhaps. She felt like she was being stalked the longer the Queen’s eyes were on her.</p><p> </p><p>“…This damned field makes it so hard to see, but I’m familiar enough with Blue’s magic to know it when I see it. And it is all over you.” She took in a breath and the purple in her eyes grew slightly deeper in color. “There is most definitely magic of your own there too.” She shook her head slightly, as if perturbed. “I can see the leylines. Your magic has been… shaped. Bent and twisted and turned. It looks very much like a magical blacksmith has taken your magic and forged it into shape and you along with it.” Her eyes closed, and she shook her head slightly. When she opened them, they were their normal color again, and once more focused on Swan’s face. “I cannot imagine that was an enjoyable experience.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan found herself in the unusual circumstance of being lost for words. She was vaguely familiar with aural leylines, but had never been taught to read them. They weren’t useful- or so she’d been told. “That’s… not an inaccurate description.” She watched as the Evil Queen shook her head once more, then moved to pour herself a beverage out of a pitcher in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s hand relaxed away from her sword. She rose from the chair and stood a little closer to the field. She was understandably curious- having never witnessed another human do any sort of magic. “How did you do that? I was under the impression that your magic-”</p><p> </p><p>“Reading of aural leylines isn’t magic.” The Queen wasn’t looking at her, but Swan could practically hear her roll her eyes even though they appeared closed. She was sipping her drink and rubbing at her temple with one hand. “Anyone with a basic understanding of arcane energy can do it. Just as any magic user with <em>sense</em> knows to shield theirs from being read.” She glanced back at Swan. “Your training must have been rudimentary at best, but I suppose that’s hardly your fault if Blue was the one teaching you.” She rubbed at the bridge of her nose again and glanced at the papers Swan was still holding. “You may send those through if you so wish.”</p><p> </p><p>She blinked, almost having forgotten about them, but did so, the roll of parchment passing through the magic slot and crossing through to the Evil Queen’s side. The Queen picked them up and began to thumb through the pages. After a moment or two she snorted. “Rudimentary, indeed. It’s no wonder she’s been having such trouble with my kingdom if this is all she has to offer. Tell me, Miss Swan: did you take a look through this document?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what are your thoughts on Dark Magic? What is the deciding factor that makes it so very different from Light Magic?”</p><p> </p><p>She considered. “…The intention with which it was cast.”</p><p> </p><p>“Intention? So if I were to cast a spell for the protection of the kingdom, then that makes it Light Magic? Even if that spell ends up killing one person to save five others?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think that’s a slippery slope kind of scenario, your Majesty. Where would you draw the line? Killing a hundred people to save a thousand? If your spell is designed to protect people, then it should protect them. Not protect some of them and kill others. That’s not protection; it’s sacrifice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm. But those with the best of intentions often end up doing the worst of harm. Take your Blue Fairy, for example. Certainly she intends good by granting wishes. But then think of all of the wishes she does not grant… think of all the children’s hearts she breaks. Does that make it good?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan could feel her throat closing over and the warnings of Red echoing in her ears. “…I think I’m too close to that to be an impartial judge.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, consider another example: if there were, for instance, a great curse upon the land, edging closer with every year, and the only way to stop it from destroying the entire kingdom was to sacrifice 100 children to their deaths, is that Dark Magic? To save the entire kingdom?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s breath caught in her throat a bit. “Is that what needs to be done?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not saying it is, dear. This is hypothetical. <em>If </em>such a spell were needed for the greater good, if murdering 100, or even 500 children was the lesser evil… is that Dark, or is it Light?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Evil is Evil. Lesser, greater. It makes no difference.”</p><p> </p><p>Another little smirk and a click as the Evil Queen ran her tongue over the backs of her teeth. “Swan… you know it occurs to me that’s an odd sort of name. So let me see…” she ran her eyes over her form again, but she got the distinct impression it was only for show- the Evil Queen already knew everything she was about to say.</p><p> </p><p>“A little orphaned girl, taken in by the castle. How old were you, when they found you? Or can you not even remember your life before? One of so many forgettable, unwanted children, dumped at the doors of the palace and taken in. Given to the fairies and the dwarves because the ‘Good’ Queen Snow can’t bear to be reminded of her own lost child. Taken in- but never wanted, never loved- and reminded of it every day of your life. And poor little Swan; only able to cry into whatever makeshift pillow you had at night and wish- knowing your wishes would never be answered by the fairies. Wishing of getting away- going anywhere. Until finally you were noticed by those same fairies, but in a way you’d never, ever wanted to be. Finally you were taken away, trained by Blue herself… who twisted and forged you into a weapon designed specifically for hunting and killing monsters.”</p><p> </p><p>That same damned, enigmatic smile. “That’s why they sent you to me, isn’t it? I’m sure you’re very good at what you were twisted into being. And after all, I’m as monstrous as they come.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan took a very long breath- in through her nose, out through her mouth. Then: “Red was right. You’re very perceptive.” She made sure her eyes met the Evil Queen’s. “She didn’t mention how much of a Bitch you are.”</p><p> </p><p>That actually made the Queen smile. A full smile, showing her teeth. For the briefest of instants, it almost looked as though the purple was back in her eyes, but it must have been a trick of the light. “Oh, you are a fun one, aren’t you, little Swan?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a sudden pulse in the magic field as the Queen sent the papers back through. It would have made Swan jump, if not for her training. “You take those back to Blue and tell her I’ll not be dissected by the likes of her.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan turned to gather the papers and go, the taste of disappointment and failure bitter on her tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“You may also tell her,” the Queen called, picking her letter back up again, “that should she deign to send you the next time she wants to ask what she <em>really </em>wants to know…, my responses will undoubtedly be better than if she were to try it herself. I should like the chance to speak with you again, with clear intentions.” She glanced up again, one final time. “Though next time, little Swan, don’t wear a glamour.”</p><p> </p><p>With that final puzzle of a statement, the Evil Queen’s attention turned fully away from her, and Swan could tell that she would not get it back again.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4: Debriefing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swan felt strangely excited, depleted, exhausted, and angry. Some of what the Evil Queen had surmised about her was true; but some of it had only impacted close to the truth, though still close enough to sting. What annoyed her most was how she felt she had been, once again, underprepared. A feeling that had happened at least once before, most memorably leading to the deaths of twelve guards and one fairy.</p><p> </p><p>She nearly tore off her glamour as she ended the spell inelegantly, recklessly. Once again her normal self, she threw the uncompleted papers on the Blue Fairy’s desk. “She said to tell you she would not be ‘dissected by the likes of you.’”</p><p> </p><p>That done, she turned to leave, determining that she had failed in her mission and was no longer needed.</p><p> </p><p>“Swan,” the fairy called after her. She could hear the buzzing of wings as she zipped closer toward her head. And the unforgettable sound of disappointment in Blue’s voice. “That is not a full report. You are not dismissed until a proper debriefing has occurred!”</p><p> </p><p>“Minister, I say this with the greatest of respects: I don’t report to you anymore. I’ll be giving Captain Red my full report. You can collect it from her.” If she’d had sense, she’d had left it at that. To her credit, she did try, reaching the threshold of the door before a glimmering force field burst into creation, not unlike that which surrounded the Evil Queen’s cell.</p><p> </p><p>“You have not been dismissed, Venator Swan.”</p><p> </p><p>Her lip curled and the very smallest of snarls escaped. She could fight through this barrier, she knew. Fairy magic did not work well on her; she’d been designed to resist most cast magics aside from that which she cast herself. Still, she turned back to the floating bane of her existence. The glare she levelled was worse than the one she’d given to the Evil Queen; her eyes blinking suddenly jet black. She could now make out each vein in the fairy’s wings, every particle of dust that fluttered from her ridiculous skirt to the ground. “You want to talk briefings? Fine. Why did no one tell me She could read minds?!”</p><p> </p><p>The fairy stopped so short in her hovering that she seemed to jerk backwards. But then a small, rather tinny sound as Blue cleared her throat. “She can’t. She’s …incredibly perceptive and an excellent reader of people. That’s one of many reasons you were told not to reveal anything personal.” The squeak in her throat indicated a slight worry that perhaps she had.</p><p> </p><p>Swan was having none of it. “Says you. She could read my leylines. Her eyes began to change color. Is that something she should be able to do, or is your magic field not doing its job?”</p><p> </p><p>A flash of alarm danced across the Blue Fairy’s diminutive face. Her eyes opened almost comically wide for someone so small. “Unless you were physically in the cell with her reading your leylines would be…” she paused to consider a bit more, “well, not impossible, I suppose. It isn’t technically performing magic. But it was probably …very difficult for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“It looked like it gave her a headache.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did it? Good. She could use more pain.”</p><p> </p><p>“She also indicated I should have been taught how to shield mine from being read.” Her tone at this point was flat-out accusatory.</p><p> </p><p>The fairy waved her hand in dismissal. “No serious magic user has any use for leylines. They’re a triviality. A parlor trick used by fortunetellers at carnivals to appease the peasantfolk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, the Evil Queen was just able to use them to see how terribly you ‘warped and twisted’ my magic. Her words.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue suddenly looked even more alarmed, flying directly close to Swan’s face. “Did you tell her what you do? What you were taught to do?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan reared back, resisting the urge to swat. “Of course not. You and Red told me not to tell her anything, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>A tiny sigh of relief.</p><p> </p><p>“But she knew what I am. And she surmised the Venator program has been reinstated. She found that interesting.” A beat, and Swan watched the face of the fairy very carefully as it blanched and turned pale. “She actually seemed to think I might be there to ask her questions about the Southlands themselves. She also said, and I’m quoting again: ‘should she send you the next time she wants to ask what she <em>really</em> wants to know, I might respond better rather than coming herself.’”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, the thrum of Blue’s wings was the only sound in the chamber. “…So at least you were successful at one thing, Swan. You interested her enough to have her want to talk to you again.”</p><p> </p><p>“If that was what you wanted in the first place, why not just tell me from the get-go instead of wasting time with your stupid folio?” She gestured to the papers now spread across the fairy’s desk.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need to explain myself to you, Swan.” Blue waved a hand and the field at the door dropped. “You may go. Give your full report to Captain Red. Don’t leave the immediate area of the castle… We’ll probably call for you again before too long.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lucky me.” Swan muttered under her breath, and left the fairy behind her.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>As she was bid, Swan did not wander far from the castle walls after reporting to Red. There was much to keep her occupied. The nameday of Prince Leopold was two days hence, and already a small carnival had gathered. She had ridden by on her way to the castle, but now she meandered through the stalls- some still only half-way constructed- with her own thoughts running wild. The people around her kept a wide berth. She was well used to this, and paid it no mind.</p><p> </p><p>After a time, she paused outside a tent that had been fully set up, displaying masterfully made carvings of all sorts of animals to beckon people within. She found a particularly well made carving of a stone swan, and picked it up, marveling at the intricate detailing on each feather.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, a Venator.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s eyes blinked, going fully black for a moment and focusing beyond the sculpted works and into the darkness of the tent, seeing an old woman rocking in an elaborately carved wooden chair, smoking an elaborately carved stone pipe. Behind her was an equally elaborate wooden table, on which rested what could only be a crystal ball covered by a velvet cloth and a set of cards.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes blinked back their more usual appearance, and she placed the swan figurine back on the table. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not seen many of you lot around- none as old as you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Swan had been the only one to survive of her Changeling Court. But hers had only been the first of many. Swan’s hand squeezed into a fist at her side.</p><p> </p><p>The old woman rocked back in her chair, puffing on her pipe. “Hmm. I remember the old Venators, you know. Before they were outlawed by Leopold’s grandfather. One came to my village when I was a girl. Killed a basilisk that had been turning folk to stone. I remember my mother being more afraid of him than being turned to stone.” She sized Swan up and down with her slightly milky old eyes. “Do I need to fear you, Venator?”</p><p> </p><p>“What you feel or don’t is up to you, Grandmother. But I don’t wish you any harm.”</p><p> </p><p>The old woman took a long inhale from her pipe, then exhaled it through a grin, showing a few missing teeth, but it was a warm smile nonetheless. “So! Something tells me you aren’t here for a sculpture or a palm reading, dear. What can I help you with?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan found herself smiling just a little in return. “Leylines. I want to learn how to read them. And how to block mine from being read.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leylines?” Another puff of the pipe. “They’re a bit rudimentary, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“So I’ve been told.”</p><p> </p><p>The fortuneteller seemed to consider for a long moment, taking another few puffs. Then she nodded. “Alright. Come with me.” She grunted as she got out of her chair, leaning on a beautifully carved walking stick, and then led Swan out the back end of the tent. As soon as her feet had stepped out, the old woman snapped her fingers, then turned around to head back inside again. “Well, come along, Venator.”</p><p> </p><p>Brow furrowed, Swan did as she was bid, swiveling around and heading back inside… to see that the interior of the tent had completely changed. The carvings were gone, replaced by rows upon rows of bottles and vials; in place of the table was now an enormous caldron. “What did-”</p><p> </p><p>She was interrupted by a knowing smirk and a wink, the old woman tapping a finger against her nose. “Never conjure where you carve, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day, Swan spent in the tent.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Early the next day before the sun rose, Swan saddled up Bug, who had been well fed and cared for in the stables. The Prince’s nameday celebration was truly starting, and Swan had never been comfortable in the company of large gatherings of other people. So she rode south. It was a journey she was very much familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>The natural border between Queen Snow’s kingdom and the Evil Queen’s had once been the White River, but in the years since the Evil Queen’s defeat (and now, as Swan knew, her capture), the curse on the Southlands had been inching that border ever closer, and now the river was nearly a hundred miles inland from the new border. The new border that was now only ten or so miles from Snow White’s castle.</p><p> </p><p>Swan and Bug reached a series of hills overlooking the new border just after mid-day. She dismounted, patting Bug affectionately on his nose and giving him an apple and some water. She took some water herself, and then wandered a little ways away from her happily munching horse and found a patch of grass on the hill, facing the border.</p><p> </p><p>She sat, closed her eyes, breathed, and focused, remembering what she’d been taught the previous day. She knew in a battle situation, this would be ridiculous. She would never be able to close her eyes and try to focus on anything when her life was on the line and an ankheg was spewing acid three feet in front of her.  She’d have to learn to read the energies in a moment- in a glance. But for now, she had the time. She concentrated.</p><p> </p><p>The first signature she became aware of was her own, pulsing around her in a slowly moving haze. Her awareness then expanded, taking in all that moved, and some things that did not, completely around her, and she was surprised to see that leylines interpreted themselves in different colors. Hers was a light blue that sparkled with gold, and then every so often a streak of bright blue shot through it. She imagined those were what the Evil Queen had seen- the traces of the Blue Fairy’s magic.</p><p> </p><p>Bug, a few steps away, carrying her weapons and a few charms of protection was emitting a warm, butter yellow. The iron in his horseshoes was a dull red brown, leeching the leylines away. She could sense the greenish growth of a myconoid, a good hundred feet or so away, on a decaying log. Far overhead, a red-orange rook of pseudodragons soared above her. Even not far from her own foot- a tiny bright blue/yellow phase spider, no bigger than an almond, was weaving a web as it blinked in an out of the ethereal plane.</p><p> </p><p>Within a matter of minutes, she began to understand why she had not been taught about leylines: they were everywhere. If she did this during a fight she could very quickly become distracted; the wealth of information she was slowly becoming aware of came at her from all directions at once.</p><p> </p><p>But none moreso than from the South.</p><p> </p><p>That leyline didn’t so much hang in the air as it did punch to the face. The essence of deep purple magic was seething like a roiling tide, ready to knock over anyone foolish enough to search for it. Its essence halted at the border, for now, but Swan could practically feel it roiling- a storm that would never abate, only grow. She could even feel what seemed like silver lightning intermittently arcing through it.</p><p> </p><p>And then her eyes widened, staring at the flashes of lightning as they danced inside the roiling violet cloud. There was another color, completely different- a light blue so pale it almost looked white, with glimmers of gold.</p><p> </p><p>The same color that was emitting from Swan herself.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Interlude: The Prince on his Nameday</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Further within the Southlands, far beyond where Swan could currently sense, a small band of intrepid guards was catching their breath through the cursed kingdom. At their head, a young man was wiping dark drips of black ichor from his sword. He was nearly covered in the substance, having had to crawl out underneath of the warped creature that lay slain before him, humanoid from the waist up but the lower half the body that of an enormous spider.</p><p> </p><p>The trees around them were likewise covered, not in ichor, but in blood and viscera. Scattered around the entire area lay a good number of soldiers- or pieces of what had been soldiers.</p><p> </p><p>“Graham,” the young man finished wiping his sword, but did not sheathe it, calling to another who was tending to a wound on his shoulder. “See if you can find any of the horses. Hopefully they won’t have run too far.”</p><p> </p><p>Graham nodded, rolling his shoulder with a wince, but was up and moving within a moment, wound or no.</p><p> </p><p>A dwarf with a short puff of a beard was wrapping up a wicked gash on the leg of a young woman, who hissed a bit under her breath but otherwise made no sound.</p><p> </p><p>The young man called out to his fellows- “We will not linger here. Grab what you can. Prepare to keep moving.”</p><p> </p><p>The dwarf paused in his treatments and glanced at the carnage around them. He adjusted a pair of half-moon spectacles on his nose, smeared at the corners in blood.</p><p> </p><p> “…Should we not head back, my prince?” Over half the company they’d come with had already been claimed by the Southlands. The gigantic half-spider creature alone had taken five of their men with it before they’d managed to subdue it.</p><p> </p><p>Prince Leopold was now standing near the head of the slain creature, its mandibles still spread wide from the center opening of what should have been its chin. “My mother says these were all once normal people, just like you and I, Doc. They just had the ill fortune of being caught in the curse when it was unleashed.” He bent down to observe the face of the creature a little closer, the eight eyes clouded over in death. “But even if that is true, this has been a monster for my entire life; likely for far longer than it was ever human.” With one mighty swing, he cleaved the monster’s oblong head from its body, watching it roll before nodding to one of the other men to collect it.</p><p> </p><p>Doc only looked at him with confusion, knowing that their fight had been loud and messy and likely would have attracted much attention. “…My prince?”</p><p> </p><p>“The Evil Queen’s castle is only another day’s ride from here. We press on.”</p><p> </p><p>“And… if Graham cannot find the horses?”</p><p> </p><p>Leopold turned to glare at the dwarf, his eyes icy and his face still spattered in blood and black ichor. “Then we walk.” He brushed past the dwarf and walked away, finding a relatively clear patch of grass to wipe his sword off.</p><p> </p><p>Doc swallowed thickly, looking up at the sky and the sun which would soon set, his fingers nervously twitching. Then he moved back to the wounded soldier to continue bandaging her leg. They would need to be on the move quickly.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Mounting shadows rose behind them.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alternate Chapter Title: Stubbornness is an Inherited Trait</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5: A Second Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter contains a direct quotation from "Blood of Elves" by Andrej Sapowski. It is marked in italics.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was only a day after the Nameday celebrations when Swan was summoned down to the dungeons again by the Blue Fairy. This time, she was given an agenda. One glance and she wanted to toss it away immediately, but there was a possibility, albeit a slim one, she could get the Evil Queen to talk of some of these things.</p><p> </p><p>The eerie silence of the dungeons was slightly less off-putting the second time around, and it was dark in here now, the magic lanterns no longer illuminating the corridor. It mattered little to Swan; the gloom was far easier to bear once Swan blinked her pupils into those of pure black. She used what she had learned from the fortune teller at the festival, and cloaked her leylines before she went in. But she did not bother with the glamour before heading down. She no longer saw the point.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. You’ve learned to shield your leylines.” This time the Evil Queen seemed to be waiting for her, a smile on her face as she sat with her chair facing the bars beside her table, sipping from a teacup. On the table beside her sat a large stack of books and scrolls, a few lay open. Her chamber, at least, was somewhat lit- flameless candles burning about her.</p><p> </p><p>“It seemed a pertinent thing for me to learn, your majesty.”</p><p> </p><p>A dark chuckle. “And you’ve given up your glamour. Trading one kind of shield for another?” She didn’t seem offended, just amused. “One wonders what exactly you’re trying to hide from me, Venator Swan.”</p><p> </p><p>There was no chair set out for Swan this time. Clearly Lieutenant Hua had not been given any notice. Swan folded her legs beneath her and sat on the roughly hewn stone of the floor. “You’ve been known to use glamours yourself, from what I’ve read.”</p><p> </p><p>The rise of an eyebrow. “Have you been reading up on me? I’m very curious as to how Snow’s histories portray me.”</p><p> </p><p>She, in fact, had been doing just that. She’d spent much of the previous day in the castle library, studying up on the Evil Queen and particularly the events and days leading up to her defeat. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, as if in challenge. “Perhaps.”</p><p> </p><p>An amused, possibly impressed smile met her response. The Evil Queen inclined her head towards the stack of old-looking books on the table. “You know, I’ve been doing a bit of reading on my own. I’ve found the old records of the Venator program <em>quite</em> intriguing since your last visit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Queen Snow allowed you to access those records?”</p><p> </p><p>A chuckle, another sip of tea, and a knowing smirk over a teacup. “’Queen’ Snow does not personally supervise my reading list.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence fell over them as they stared at one another: a battle of wills just as potentially dangerous as any other enemy Swan had ever faced.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, the Evil Queen smirked. “I suggest a trade. You tell me what you’ve learned in your studies, and I’ll share my findings.”</p><p> </p><p>“And why would I consent to making any sort of a deal with a ‘monster’?” Swan’s lips were also quirked upwards in a bemused smile.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen, again, did not seem to take offense. “You were sent down here to gain my trust, were you not? To get me talking about; I’m guessing; a number of subjects, but most likely my curse and how to stop it?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan did not confirm or deny this, but they both knew it was true.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” continued the Evil Queen. “A quid pro quo, Venator Swan?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan shrugged her shoulders and stated, quite bluntly: “Very well. You’re portrayed largely as a vile woman, vain and heartless, intent on little but destroying the good Queen Snow all because you were afraid she was prettier than you were, and not caring if your kingdom fell to ruin to accomplish that.”</p><p> </p><p>The highlights in the Evil Queen’s eyes seemed to burn brighter for a moment. Fingernails drummed against a teacup. “Mhmm. And what do you think, little Swan?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think that only true monsters are so simplistic and banal in their desires.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am I not a true monster?”</p><p> </p><p>“…I’m sure your side of the story is more complicated than mere jealousy. Do you what to know what I found that was most interesting?”</p><p> </p><p>“By all means.”</p><p> </p><p>“The public record mentions your capture, but not your imprisonment. Nor is there any record of trial or execution.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well that <em>is</em> interesting. What does the general populace think became of me, I wonder?”</p><p> </p><p>“In general I think they’re too afraid of the curse of the Southlands and the <em>actual</em> monsters you let loose to think anything at all of you other than as a children’s story and a curse to be spat on.”</p><p> </p><p>A slow inhale followed by another sip of tea. “…Pity.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan sat back on her heels, raising her brow expectantly, as if to indicate that her turn was over. “Quid pro quo, your majesty.”</p><p> </p><p>The teacup was set down and one scroll in particular was reached for. She began to read with her eyes somehow both looking at Swan and glancing over the parchment at the same time.</p><p>
  <em>‘“On the third day all the children died save one, a male barely ten. Hitherto agitated by a sudden madness, he fell at once into deep stupor. His eyes took on a glassy gaze, incessantly with his hands did he clutch at clothing, or brandish them in the air as if desirous of catching a quill. His breathing grew loud and hoarse; sweat cold, clammy and malodorous appeared on his skin. Then he was once more given elixir through the vein and the seizure it did return. This time a nose-bleed did ensue, coughing turned to vomiting, after which the male weakened entirely and became inert.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"For two days more did symptoms not subside. The child's skin, hitherto drenched in sweat, grew dry and hot, the pulse ceased to be full and firm — albeit remaining of average strength, slow rather than fast. No more did he wake, nor did he scream.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Finally, came the seventh day. The male awoke and opened his eyes, and his eyes were those of a viper.”’</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She finished her recitation and gave a very pointed look into Swan’s slit eyes. “I’m so pleased you decided against the glamour today, dear.” Her smile was nearly predatory. “Though, to be honest, much of this I knew before. This is an excerpt of a document written by an inquisitor of Snow’s great-grandfather, sent to observe the Venator program. The male spoken of is the king’s youngest son. The last Venator to be created, as after this Inquistor’s report, the king ordered the program disbanded.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s pulse was erratic, she could hear it throbbing, could feel the clutch of it in her throat. She was fighting to keep the eyes the Evil Queen was staring at so intently from filling with tears, as the passage had flashed waves of memory and pain cycling through her mind. She fought them to the side, swallowing them down, and met the Evil Queen’s eyes with a steady though belabored gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what<em> I</em> have found most interesting?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?” Swan was pleased that her voice was not shaken.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen gestured to another stack of documents. “Over the last few generations of monarchs, there have been no less than seventeen formal requests from the Blue Fairy and her ilk begging to reinstate the Venator program since it was first disbanded by Snow’s great-grandfather. …A bit over-eager, if you ask me. It makes me wonder what exactly they’re up to, with you lot.” She chuckled almost conspiratorially.</p><p> </p><p>Swan blinked, her breath remaining steady, trying to absorb this just as she tried to stave off her panic attack. “Hmm.”</p><p> </p><p>A smile split the Evil Queen’s face once more. “Shall we continue our little game of quid pro quo? I find I’m quite enjoying it.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s heart leapt to her throat for a completely different reason, though she was careful not to give anything away. She had years of practice, after all. “What else would you want to know from me?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>From</em> you? Oh, I’m sure there’s some news of the kingdom that might intrigue me. But <em>about </em>you?” Her eyes seemed to flash in the dim light. “I’m sure there’s plenty.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>She could hear the warnings of Red and Mulan both crying out from the back of her mind, but they sounded so far away. An overwhelming need to <em>know</em> was pressing her onwards, and she found herself nodding before she even realized it.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen smirked. “All right, then.” She paused, only for a scant second, before asking her first question: “What is your worst memory of childhood?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Swan swallowed, only a moment’s hesitation. “The day I was taken by the fairies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me about it, dear. Be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s eyes hardened a bit. “I’m always honest.” She took in a deep breath, and told her.</p><p>She’d only seen six summers when she was taken… no. <em>Given</em> to the fairies.</p><p>She’d had a family up to that point. No siblings, but parents who had, she’d thought, loved her from the moment they had found her. Her parents had always wanted a child of their own, they’d told her. It must have been the fairies answering their dearest wish; that they had found her as they had, that winter’s night- a squalling infant left abandoned in the woods.</p><p><em>Another hour, and you’d surely have died.</em> They’d often told her. This was meant to be reassuring. Though as she’d grown older and more willful in the way that all toddlers do, it became more of a chastisement.</p><p>In her fourth winter, the family grew; another blessing from the fairies, surely, for her parents were gifted with a child of their own: a healthy baby boy. And the attention given to their babe from the woods began to lessen.</p><p>In her fifth summer, she, her mother and brother went walking along the banks of the pond that bordered their farm. Her mother was gathering herbs used for healing. She was helping by minding her parent’s ‘miracle’ child. He kept toddling closer to the banks of the pond, wanting to splash in the water. She had long been warned not to go towards the water, and was trying to steer him away. But he managed to escape her, stumbling away, splashing in the banks and the tall reeds. </p><p>She ran as fast as her tiny legs could go to catch up, but the boy had managed to accidentally stumble upon a nest of cygnets and their brooding parents. The parental swans had been, quite understandably, unhappy to see them. The mother swan had stayed protectively guarding the brood, while the father, furious bird that he was, had quickly reared up with his wings flared out dramatically. She had the momentary thought that whoever had named them ‘mute’ swans must not have studied them very well at all, because the male swan made a grand variety of hisses, grunts, snorts and cries. </p><p>As wings and beak beat down upon her brother, she rushed in, grabbing hold of him and putting herself between the baby boy and the angry swan. In her desperation to get them to safety and<em> away</em> from the angry flurry of wings and beak, she’d reached out and grabbed ahold of her brothers’ hand… and suddenly, they were safe, back within the walls of their home.</p><p>Later, she was told, that had been her moment of Awakening. This first time she’d used magic. At the time, all she knew was she was suddenly exhausted and starving, and having trouble remaining standing and keeping her eyes open.</p><p>Her parents had been terrified and furious, both of the new power she exhibited and that it surely had been her carelessness that had so endangered her brother. Their precious miracle child.</p><p>The fairies had come for her shortly after.</p><p>Her father had not even said goodbye. Her mother had given her only tiny backwards glance, but then cuddled her baby boy closer to her chest as they walked away.</p><p>Out of her life forever.</p><p>Later, when her name became nothing but a reminder of guilt and pain and loss- all things she was cutting out of her life- she denounced it.</p><p>And when the fairies asked what she would be called instead, she told them the only thing she could think of- that which had protected its family so fiercely, so devotedly, it would have broken its wings and beak against her to keep her from them.</p><p>And so she'd named herself ‘Swan.’</p><p> </p><p>A moment of silence descended hung in the air of the prison after Swan had finished. Coming back into herself, she was pleased to see that she wasn’t crying, though her eyes had reddened considerably and her voice was rough and felt like she’d swallowed wood shavings.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen was watching her thoughtfully. “I see… I imagine the years that followed- and it <em>was</em> years, wasn’t it? Spent with the Blue Fairy were some of the worst of your life. Not unlike what is described in the document I read. And when she’d taken all she could take of you, or you’d had enough of her bullshit, either way, you turned to the solo work, though you so often work closely with the Queensguard. And I’m sure with my curse spreading more and more, your services are in frequent request.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Swan’s eyes closed, taking a few long, deep, almost shuddering breaths. When she opened them, she was almost looking <em>through</em> the Queen. “It’s not your turn anymore; it’s mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Another dark chuckle. “You’re quite blunt, Swan,” The Evil Queen smiled at her, both amused and almost enchanted. “And you’re right- very honest. I think it would be quite a thing to know you without the-” she gestured to the bars and field that separated them, “between us.”</p><p> </p><p>An amused snort. “Doubtful. We’d probably try to kill one another.” But Swan found herself smirking softly too, nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps.” A pause. “Ask your question, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>She inhaled, considering. There were so many things she wanted to know. Finally, she settled on: “Why did you cast the curse?”</p><p> </p><p>A bark of abrupt laughter from the other side of the bars. “What a waste of a question! Because I hate Snow White.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan stared at her with an eyebrow raised. She was owed more than that, and they both knew it. “Tell me about it, Your Majesty. Don’t lie.”</p><p> </p><p>An amused snort. “Would you know if I did?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“An interesting feature for a Venator. The monsters you slay barely speak, must less lie.” She took a breath, coming close enough to grip the bars, the anti-magic field humming between them. “Fine. Our tale starts with a young girl, her mother, a visiting princess on a runaway horse, and a secret.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan listened, not as she was expecting, to the tale of how the curse came into being, but how the Evil Queen herself was created. A young girl with her mind and heart open to love, her mother vengeful and quite literally heartless, bent on destroying her daughter’s life if it would give her power. A princess who saw what she should not have seen and swore secrecy, only to turn around and do exactly what she’d sworn not to. The young girl left traumatized and alone, married to a King who expected her to be only a warm body in his bed and a mother to the very princess that had betrayed her. The princess all smiles and joy and expecting the girl to be overjoyed with the way events had turned out. While the girl’s broken heart had gradually filled with nothing but hatred.</p><p> </p><p>It was an unpleasant tale to listen to, but then Swan herself had had an unpleasant life, and though she found her throat close up again, she said nothing. Through the bars she met dark, glossy eyes and waited.</p><p> </p><p>So the tale continued, how the now-Queen had arranged murder and regicide alike and taken a kingdom and ruled it well, while scouring it for the girl who had betrayed her. The frustration and pain at watching said girl find her own True Love and taking back the Northern reaches of the kingdom. Their announcement of a True Love pregnancy… everything she’d been denied. Numerous failed attempts at revenge, until, finally, at last: a curse. A Dark Curse to end all curses, one that would destroy Snow White’s happiness forever.</p><p> </p><p>When she described the finding of the curse, her eyes were alight and locked with Swan’s. “I think that’s more than enough. Quid pro quo, Swan.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan took a moment for a long inhale, slowly letting it out afterwards, all while maintaining the eye contact. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“What was your name before you changed it to Swan?”</p><p> </p><p>Out of reflex, Swan felt her hand move up towards the pendant around her neck, closing around it until the stark petals of the rose bit into her palm.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t imagine the answer is on your necklace, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>A memory flashed behind Swan’s eyes. Blue, standing before her Changeling Court telling them the story of the Evil Queen and the lost princess and the great feeling of pressure that suddenly lay added to her own shoulders.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“…It was Emma.”</p><p> </p><p>The smile that split the face of the Evil Queen was wide and dark, her laugh more akin to a cackle than anything else Swan had heard so far. “Oh, that’s <em>delicious</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Amber, slitted eyes flashed at her. “It’s a common enough name now.”</p><p> </p><p>Laughter still came, and Swan frowned at her, allowing it to continue for another moment before she finally knocked her sheathed sword against one of the bars. “If you’re quite through,” she glared, “I’m owed another question.”</p><p> </p><p>The laughter stopped, though a smirking grin still graced dark lips. “So you are, dear. Go ahead, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Why </em>does the curse keep spreading?”</p><p> </p><p>The grin spread even wider over the face of the Evil Queen, seeming to reach even to her eyes. “Ah. Well, to explain that, you first need to understand one simple thing that the fairies can’t seem to wrap their tiny little brains around.”</p><p> </p><p>“And that is?”</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen’s smile was a slash of white in the darkness. “There <em>is</em> no curse.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6: The Queen's Gambit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swan’s eyes revealed her confusion, and she opened her mouth to demand more of an answer than that, when she suddenly turned her head to the side, listening intently. Footsteps. A <em>lot</em> of footsteps. Metal ones, headed down stairs. She sprung to her feet.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen furrowed her brow, and then a moment later she seemed to hear it or sense it as well. “Do forgive me for cutting your answer short, dear. I think I’m about to have more company than I want.” She retreated back to the far corner of her cage. The lights dimmed with her, the candles extinguishing.</p><p> </p><p>Not a moment later, the doors to the dungeons opened. Loudly. A horde of guards came clamoring in, ushering someone in the middle. Above them, fairies flitted about, looking as determinedly angry as anyone dressed as a fruitcake could.</p><p> </p><p>Swan wisely stepped to the side, pressing herself against a wall as the horde of fairies came to a stop in front of the bars. It was but a moment’s work to cloak herself in shadows, a habit long ingrained in her. Amidst all the hubbub, her brief spellcasting wasn’t noticed. Except perhaps by one, who did not presently seem inclined to speak.</p><p> </p><p>Blue descended looking like a ferocious turquoise cream puff. “You will answer for this <em>now</em>, witch!”</p><p> </p><p>In the following clamor, the Evil Queen remained stoic and largely unresponsive as fairy after fairy and guard after guard shouted questions at her. The only time she showed any signs of even hearing was when Captain Red demanded everyone stand back away from the bars.</p><p> </p><p>From far behind, largely forgotten in the hubbub, Swan continued to watch the Evil Queen. She appeared to have pulled out some fine string from one of her boxes and she was holding… thimbles? In her lap, weaving them back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>She gathered, from the questions being shouted, that Prince Leopold had been foolish enough to take an expedition into the Southlands. And his group had been lost, one rider managing to return alone, badly injured. His horse so terrified it had to be put down. That also got a mild response from the Evil Queen, albeit only the clicking of her tongue as she continued to weave her… they were tatting shuttles, Swan now realized. All these idiots were standing here yelling at her and demanding answers for the Prince’s own foolish decision, and the Evil Queen’s response was to sit there quietly, tatting lace.</p><p> </p><p>Swan almost could have laughed.</p><p> </p><p>At last, the last of the fairies and the guards had wasted their breath, silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the hum of fairy wings, the ever-present buzz of the magic field, and the slow steady travel of two tatting shuttles.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, from the back of the cadre of guards and fairies stepped a figure- a woman, clothed in a silver and blue dress, a cloak over her head. This was no guard. But when she spoke, it was with years of authority and experience. “Leave us.”</p><p> </p><p>There was an instant protest from the Blue Fairy and from the guards, but the woman raised her hand. “Your way is not working, Blue. I wonder at how I ever believed it would. We do not have time to argue- My son’s life is on the line.”</p><p> </p><p>Had Swan lacked better training, her eyebrows would have risen. So <em>this</em> was Queen Snow White.  She had wondered at what point in her life she would have reason to meet the woman who had ordered her creation. The torture that had been wrought on her. The subsequent deaths of all the other children in her Changeling Court. And so many after hers.</p><p> </p><p>Queen Snow was currently glaring at her Minister of Magicks and Dysology. “I’ll not say it again.”</p><p> </p><p>Gradually, reluctantly, the fairies and guards began to withdraw. Captain Red’s nose twitched, and she turned her head to look exactly where Swan was standing, still tucked against the corner, still cloaked in her shadows. Red made a brief decision, and gave a faint nod, mouthing the word “Stay” before she, too, left the immediate area. The forces withdrew back further to the corridor, giving a wide berth to Queen Snow and to her prisoner.</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s eyebrows rose, but she did as she was bid by Red, remaining close at hand. No one else seemed to note her presence.</p><p> </p><p>Queen Snow drew in a long breath. From her position and with her sight, Swan could see redness around her eyes. Grey in her hair, though she still had her hood up to mostly cover it.</p><p> </p><p>The Queen approached the bars, stopping well outside them. As if she knew better to get within reach, even with the field between them. “Hello Regina.”</p><p> </p><p>The hum of the field and the soft scratching of tatting shuttle continued. A minute passed. Two.</p><p> </p><p>Snow White sighed and lowered her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know it’s been over two decades since I’ve been called by my name?” The tatting shuttles continued their slow movements. “I’d almost forgotten what it sounded like in anyone’s voice but mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan almost expected to see Snow White startle slightly at the voice coming out of the darkness, but she did not. The rumors of the Queen once being a bandit in the woods may had have some merit. “…I didn’t know.  But I’m not surprised.  I believe only my husband calls me by mine to my face. And I’m not a dangerous prisoner whose whims have caused everyone in the land a great deal of pain.”</p><p> </p><p>A soft, dark chuckle emanated from low in the throat of the Evil Queen. “No, <em>your</em> whims have caused everyone in the land a great deal of pain, and yet they somehow made you Queen for it.” She clucked her tongue in almost admonishment. She made no move to get closer or even look up to face Snow yet. </p><p> </p><p>There was a lengthy pause. “My son took an expedition to find the cause of your curse.  We’ve lost contact with him.” Her words were not pleading, but it did seem heartfelt and earnest, as if expecting The Evil Queen- Regina, apparently- to understand why she was here, though she seemed to know better than to expect sympathy or any kind of human emotion.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of the tatting shuttles finally ceased.  The flameless candles of the cell raised their light, revealing the face of the Evil Queen split with a grin of almost manic delight. “Stealing your daughter from you was very intentional. Your son gifting me credit for his gruesome death is quite the unexpected bonus.” Still, she raised an eyebrow, the grin fading to a smirk. “But you have not come down to my prison to visit me for the first time in 28 years simply to give me such pleasant news. You’ve come because you’re desperate, and you need something of me. You must have reason to believe he’s still alive.”</p><p> </p><p>There was fire in Snow’s eyes at the obvious delight, and Swan could see in her eyes the urge to turn around and walk away. Instead, she raised an eyebrow.  “Someday I might have to ask why you decided that the poor farmers of your kingdom and the common folk needed your particular ‘present’.  But today I don’t care why you did it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Someday, I might answer you. If you ever ask me the question, I suppose we’ll see.”</p><p> </p><p>Snow held up her wedding ring.  It sat next to her engagement ring and it had two stones in it.  Both white diamonds.  “If he was dead … or Emma was for that matter… they’d be black.”</p><p> </p><p>At the presentation of the ring, the Evil Queen finally rose and approached the bars, her face coming almost as close as it could before going between them. Her eyes were focused on the ring in a way Swan had seen before. She was not surprised when, for the very briefest of moments, the pupils flashed purple. Then the Evil Queen inhaled and pulled back, rubbing at the bridge of her nose as if the effort had caused a headache. “What a quaint little bit of magic. Too subtle for fairies- not enough dust in it. Ozian in make, unless I’m mistaken. Glinda?”</p><p> </p><p>Snow appeared extremely put off, by the closness of the Evil Queen or by the color in her eyes. She swallowed thickly before answering, “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen’s hand moved to her temple now. She rolled her neck until a ‘pop’ came from her spine, sounding uniquely loud in the echoing cavern. “How very sweet.” She remained close to the bars, though now she looked at Snow’s face. “Well, my dear: it seems to me that if you want to get your precious little boy back, you’ll need to send someone in after him. I do hope you know where he was heading; it’s a large kingdom, after all.” She cocked her head slightly to the side and smirked. “How many sons of the kingdom is yours worth to you, Snow White? How many mothers will you order to send their children off to die?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you dare lecture me about casually sending others to die when you caused this in the first place,” Snow growled.  “His bodyman told me that he was headed towards your castle.  How do I find him?”</p><p> </p><p>Regina raised a finger and ‘tsked.’ “Oh no, dear. Let’s be very clear about this: I didn’t cause this. You did. As usual, <em>you</em> are responsible for everything.” She turned away from Snow and to the nearest wall, running her fingers over the stone. “The simple answer: <em>you</em> don’t. Much as I would love it if you were to try it yourself. But if you want a more complex answer: I’ve already suggested how.”</p><p> </p><p>Snow shook her head.  “I’m done here.  Maybe if you are lucky someone will call you by your name in another two decades.” She turned and started to walk away.  It looked as though she was cursing herself for even thinking this might work.</p><p> </p><p>As Snow began to walk away, the Evil Queen turned to look at her again. She bit her lip, then called after her: “You know, dear, you aren’t exactly giving me any great incentive to help you.” As Snow continued to move away, she frowned and then followed after her for what little amount she could, halted by the bars and the magic field between them. She nearly hissed as the magic thrummed at her. "Your ring, foolish girl." She waited for Snow to stop and turn back around. “It has an anchor point; something your precious little princeling wears as well to keep it grounded on his life force?”</p><p> </p><p>Snow turned around and smirked a little, perhaps in satisfaction of seeing how her ‘Regina’ wasn’t completely indifferent. “He has a ring as well.  Emma had a bracelet.  I don’t know how it’s still with her wherever she is because it was so tiny.”</p><p> </p><p>Out of sight of all of them, Venator Swan took in a quiet, imperceptible gasp. Her hand reached unconsciously up to her rose pendant.</p><p> </p><p>"Then there is your answer." ‘Regina’ took a tiny step backwards, further away from the magic field, and she stared through the bars at Snow. "I can do better than tell you how to find him." The pupils began to glow ever so slightly again. “I could find him for you. As you do so love repeating: I did cast the curse, and it’s my kingdom, dear. Who knows it better than I? I could return him nice and safe and sound to you. So the question you need to ask yourself now, Snow White, is this: How much is your son’s life worth to you?” Her gaze was so intense it looked as if it could possibly bore a hole through the bars themselves. “Is it worth letting me out of this cage?”</p><p> </p><p>Snow sucked in a deep breath, faltering. Her hand, still outstretched from showing the ring, was shaking, as she looked into the madness of Regina’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The moment stretched.</p><p> </p><p>“…No.” Snow’s hand dropped, and she turned away. “No, I will not risk loosing you upon my kingdom to wreak further destruction.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then your son is dead.” Regina took a tiny step backwards, further away from that damned magic field, and she stared through the bars at Snow. “And with no heirs remaining to you, your precious kingdom dies when you do.” She gave a dark chuckle. “Unless my kingdom swallows it before then.”</p><p> </p><p>Long moments passed. Snow stepped away, back into the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>Swan kept her eyes on the Evil Queen- Regina. She could hear murmured voices and hushed hints of conversation coming from down the hall as Queen Snow spoke with Captain Red and a number of the fairies. Blue included, Swan noticed.</p><p> </p><p>After what seemed like years, Snow returned, back straight and head raised. A true Queen, even under this terrible situation. “I…will allow you to go into the Southlands and return with my son.”</p><p> </p><p>In the darkened cell, an eyebrow raised; a mocking bow. “How very generous of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Snow glared at her through reddened eyes, continuing as though she had not been interrupted “-On the condition that you wear magical restraints personally enchanted by the Blue Fairy and are accompanied by a troupe of my Guard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever soldiers you send into my kingdom you send to their deaths, Snow.” Regina smirked. “But who am I to argue with a few less of your Guard to worry about? Send however many you deem necessary along to die.”</p><p> </p><p>“My son has managed to survive-”</p><p> </p><p>“Your <em>son</em> is the child of True Love. That makes him a creature of magic. Creatures born of magic have an advantage over the corruption in my kingdom and that is the only reason he hasn’t been drained. Yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan raised her eyebrows. A ‘corruption,’ she had called it. Not a curse.</p><p> </p><p>There was a hush of scattered gasps from those behind Snow. In one instant, the Evil Queen had revealed more about the Southlands than anyone had been able to determine in thirty years.</p><p> </p><p>If possible, Snow’s face grew even paler. “Will you agree to my terms or not?”</p><p> </p><p>A glimmer of shine- the Evil Queen’s tongue ran along her teeth, ending its journey with a click. “I will. But I do have a few conditions of my own.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Venator Swan will come as well.”</p><p> </p><p>Snow’s brow furrowed. “Venator Swa-… why?”</p><p> </p><p>“For the same reason you sent her to talk with me in the first place, dear: she’s more familiar than anyone else with my kingdom as it is now. And she has far more chance of coming back out again than a hundred of your regular guard.”</p><p> </p><p>Snow glanced aside, but then nodded. “Granted. What else?”</p><p> </p><p>Regina only smiled, and named her next conditions.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, thanks to my friend Katherine, who wrote most of Snow's dialogue and reactions and in general helped me make her not made of cardboard.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 7: The Evil Queen's Gambit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken a while to arrange everything necessary for the Evil Queen’s departure from the dungeon. The cuffs she would wear, fortunately, already existed, along with a chain forged of iron and silver to link them together. In order to be sealed upon her person, they needed to be bound to her by someone- bound by blood and with intent. This raised a small issue, as Regina refused outright to let the Blue Fairy touch her.</p><p> </p><p>Instead it was Snow White herself who stepped through the bars of jagged teeth as they opened, the hum of the magic field no longer omni-present, though nearly a full company of guards (and one aged former werewolf) were present in the chamber behind her with crossbows carefully aimed should the Evil Queen so much as move in a manner they disliked.</p><p> </p><p>Words were exchanged between the two Queens, but not even Swan, now fully visible and her presence authorized, could hear them. But she saw the tremble in Snow White’s hand as she took each shackle and clasped them around forearms. She watched as dark eyes never wavered in their stare, seemingly a hundred emotions behind them. After the bindings had been placed, Snow took a dagger and pricked her forefinger, sealing the bindings in place.</p><p> </p><p>Then, her mouth silent but her eyes speaking volumes, the Evil Queen was led out of the dungeons and into the sunlight for the first time in nearly thirty years.</p><p> </p><p>And they made their way South.</p><p> </p><p>A full score of Guardsmen were with them. Swan was leery of entering the Southlands accompanied by so many. The last time she’d done so had ended very badly indeed. At least this time, they’d had the good sense to send a cavalry unit, the horses nervous as they stepped lightly beneath the oddly purple trees and mired places of shadow. There was a clearing she knew of a few hours south from the borderline. The Evil Queen had confirmed it lay in the direction of her castle. The clearing was relatively safe from much danger, home to only will ‘o wisps. It would be a good place to camp for the night with so many in their company. That was where they were heading.</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen herself did not seem fazed by their travel at all. She seemed to be drinking in the sights and sounds of all around them like water to a parched throat. Which, Swan supposed, was perhaps understandable after so many years of being locked underground. In fact, were it not for the silver and iron cuffs on each arm and the chain connecting them like a mongrel dog on a leash, one might almost have mistaken her as simply out for a ride.</p><p> </p><p>There had been discussion of constructing a cage for her to be carted around in, or even having her ride in a fortified carriage, but ultimately the timeliness of their task had negated that. They likely had only a matter of days, if that, to catch up to the Prince’s last known coordinates and bring him home. They’d travel far faster just on horseback. There had been further discussion about which horse the Evil Queen would ride on. It would be fastest for her to have her own horse, but that idea had immediately been shot down for fear she’d try to escape. Then had come the suggestion she ride with the Guard Sergeant. But it had then been pointed out that he would need to be focusing his efforts on keeping his men alive, not burdened and slowed by the Evil Queen. Next it had been pointed out that the Evil Queen was the only one who would be able to find the Prince at all. She’d need to be kept alive in the Southlands long enough to do so. She’d have to be placed with the person most capable of keeping her alive. So it had been decided that she would ride chained to Venator Swan’s horse.</p><p> </p><p>As they moved through, the Guardsmen were treating the Evil Queen, even restrained as she was, as if she were as dangerous as the cursed lands around them. They gave the horse a wide berth.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, it occurs to me, Venator. Your last question to me was not fully answered. I do like to keep my bargains, but the answer is not something entirely simple. Would you still like to know?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s gaze never lingered long in one place, her hand clasped to her sword hilt as she tensed for the very real dangers she knew could spring from any direction at any time. She did not look at the Evil Queen- at Regina- as she answered. “…Perhaps not just at this moment, Your Majesty.”</p><p> </p><p>She heard several guards murmur around her at the title, sniggering jests among them as they trailed behind.</p><p> </p><p>The former Queen’s head remained held high, back straight and tall as she continued to walk on. It was only because of Swan’s heightened vision that she saw the barest hint of movement from her bound hands, the fingers faintly moving for a tiny instant. But then they ceased, and she shifted her wrists in the cuffs, and perhaps that was all it had been to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>Swan had little other chance to worry about it, as the next instant, the ground began to shift and shake in a way she was all too familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>“Ankhegs!” she called out to the guards, some of whom were in the process of being thrown from their skittish horses and therefore in no state to hear her warning. Bug, of course, did not rear or even whinny, though did prance his feet nimbly around the splitting ground, evading narrow cracks and great scoops of earth being flung about.</p><p> </p><p>The giant insectoid head and vise-like mandibles exploded from the ground, followed quickly by the exceptionally large pincers and deadly spikes on the forelegs. In design, the ankheg resembled an enormous mantis the colors of the earth it had just burst out of. Its forepincers were nearly three feet long, and lightning-fast when they whipped out, snagging one of the closest guards and quickly crushing him. He barely had time enough to scream before strong acidic enzymes were squirted down his open throat, and then he was very dead.</p><p> </p><p>Swan and the Evil Queen, still atop Bug, were nearly fifteen feet away from the closest of the large insectoids. Cursing, Swan swung down off her horse, rushing in with her silver axe and not her sword of iron. She struck out with a powerful blow, cleaving past the chitin natural armor of the large insect and sinking her axe deep into its core. The ankheg screamed, whirling around to try and get at the annoying creature that had hit it.</p><p> </p><p> Swan was far too fast, already weaving with her axe and managing a glance at the rest of the battlefield. Around them, at least five of the guards had fallen to the initial ambush of the small hive of ankhegs. Those who had managed to keep seat on their horses had been luckier, able to evade the grasping hooks of the pincers. But Swan was very aware that when ankhegs did not kill in the first strike, their next means of attack was acid.</p><p> </p><p>“Shields Up!” called the Guard Sergeant. Those of them that could hear fumbled to follow the order. Swan herself carried no shield, counting only on her inhuman quickness to save her as the ankheg reared its head back and acid sprayed out of it, an extremely precise line nearly a full 30 feet long. Swan managed to dodge it, jumping up into the boughs of a nearby tree, somewhat uprooted by the ankhegs’ emergence.</p><p> </p><p>Many of the other guards and some of their horses had not been so fortunate, great screams of pain echoing into the forest and acid burned into their armor and melted great holes into their shields. Though the shields had served their purpose- they’d saved their lives.</p><p> </p><p>But the guards not in the line of the acid spray had begun to follow Swan’s example and fight back, and now the sound of sword striking against chitin and high pitched squeals of the ankhegs began to join the sounds of pain and hissing and burbling of acid. The tide was turning, slowly.  Ankhegs were ambush predators by nature, and while still dangerous once the element of surprise was lost, once their initial acid spray was used, it sometimes took a while to return. Some of the hive were now beginning an attempted retreat, dragging what remained of their meals back with them as they burrowed back beneath the earth.</p><p> </p><p>The ankheg Swan had wounded reared around, its beady, compound eyes alighting on the nearby figure of a horse and the rider still atop it. It was still hungry, and it rushed forward, mandibles clacking ominously as it let out a horrifying screech, closing in.</p><p> </p><p>The horse shifted nervously, but the figure atop it did not move at all. In fact, she levelled a withering glare of her own.</p><p> </p><p>With a swift jerk, Swan watched the ankheg come to the most sudden stop she;d ever witnessed in such a creature, only three paces away from its intended prey. Its head tilted to the side, mandibles clicking together as if perusing its meal.</p><p> </p><p>Atop Bug the horse, the Evil Queen smiled at the creature. The enormous ankheg, still chittering away with a series of clicks, began to lower the front half of its body down towards the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Still up in the tree, Swan only gave the scene a glance before she sprung into action. Using the uprooted tree to her advantage, Swan came flying back down at the ankheg,, attacking from above. Just before her axe hit home, she heard the Queen speak. “Present your head.” The ankheg’s head lowered even further to the ground.  The silver axe struck deep and true, right at the base of its head. The ankheg fell to the ground, moving no more.</p><p> </p><p>“….What the fuck?!” Swan gripped her axe handle and pulled it out of the viscera while at the same time whirling on the Evil Queen. “What the fuck was that? ‘Present your head?!’”</p><p> </p><p>An eyebrow rose. “I thought you’d appreciate an easy target.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was listening to you!?” She swept a bit of her own hair out of her face, sweaty and covered in ichor and sticking to her skin.</p><p> </p><p>“It was. Even to its detriment. Fascinating, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Exhaling deeply, Swan desperately wanted to yell at her some more, but the anguished cries of the men around her took precedence. She growled, deep and animalistic in her throat, taking a moment to wipe the caustic ooze of the ankheg off her weapon. She glared at the Evil Queen. “Don’t move. We’re not done talking.”</p><p> </p><p>She held up her still bound hands, the silver and iron of the magic restraints glinting in the dappled light that fell through the trees. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>They had to get out of this area- it was too dangerous to linger here above an ambush point, but the wounded had to be moved to what horses remained, and a headcount had to be done. It wasn’t long at all before Swan was returning to Bug and the infuriating woman atop him.</p><p> </p><p>“So? How many?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re moving,” Swan responded swiftly, climbing into the saddle behind her. She clicked her tongue and Bug surged forward beneath them.</p><p> </p><p>They rode until Swan thought it was safe, with a significantly fewer number of footfalls around them. After a time, Swan sighed and seemed to relax a bit in the saddle. Not much, but a little. “We lost six. And three horses.”</p><p> </p><p>Meaning thirteen remained, excluding the two of them. A moment passed before: “You shouldn’t beat yourself up about them, dear; they’re all going to die. No matter how much preparation you gave them prior to us leaving. And that it isn’t your fault; it’s Snow’s for sending them along.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan was silent, and could have laughed at the fact that, once again, she agreed with the Evil Queen. Instead, she shook her head. “Guards have returned from the Southlands before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not from as far in as we’re going, and you know that. You’re deluding yourself if you think otherwise. You’re smarter than that, Swan.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan closed her eyes, wanting to learn forward and press her head against Bug’s mane and neck, but the Evil Queen was in the way. The ridiculousness of the situation was creeping in on her. She was sharing a horse with the Evil Queen, riding deeper into the Southlands.</p><p> </p><p>The sun was near setting when they came to the clearing- one Swan knew well. It could be safe, sometimes. Will ‘o wisps frequented here at night, but so long as no one followed them or was near death in their presence, they were practically harmless. She called for a halt and a scout rode ahead. The scout returned after a few moments, calling that it was clear.</p><p> </p><p>They began to make camp, some desperately needing the rest; the others needing some time to properly bandage the wounded and divide supplies among the horses. Swan dismounted, and she left the Evil Queen near Bug to go assist. It wasn’t as though she could run away, after all.</p><p> </p><p>A short time later she returned, holding out a fresh water skin, which the Evil Queen took and drank of, though not greedily. She knew well enough not to.</p><p> </p><p>Swan began to set up her own camp. She tossed a bedroll to the Evil Queen, who wrinkled her nose at it, but said nothing, merely standing and finding a nearby flat patch of earth and laying out the roll and blanket. Swan had almost expected her to throw a fit- perhaps say something about being a Queen and therefore too refined to sleep without a tent outdoors. But instead she said nothing, even helping to build the fire before Swan asked it of her. And she wondered if perhaps the Queen was simply enjoying being anywhere other than in her cell.</p><p> </p><p>Silence stretched for a time, apart for a few whinnies and knicks from Bug as he, too, settled for the night, saddle off and a warm blanket in its stead. Eventually, Swan sighed, a long, slow exhale and asked what she wanted. “What did you do? With the ankheg?”</p><p> </p><p>The Evil Queen lay flat on her back, staring up at the sky at the stars. A dark eyebrow rose. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m unable to do anything, remember?” She held up her hands, still bound with the length of enchanted chain connecting them.</p><p> </p><p>Swan ran her eyes over her, beginning at the bottom and slowly crawling up towards her head. She frowned. “…You’re shielding your leylines.”</p><p> </p><p>An eyebrow rose. “So are you. That isn’t magic, as you well know.”</p><p> </p><p>She thought her mind back to the battle, to the glimpses she’d gotten of the ankheg standing before the Queen… no not standing… kneeling. Bowing to her. “…It didn’t harm you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nor did it you.” A soft smirk. “Though you do still have some of its innards in your hair.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan wiped away at the strings of ooze- orange flecks staining the white. “Not for lack of it trying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” A rustle as the Evil Queen rolled over, turning to face her fully. “From what I saw, it was going after the soldiers. You simply got in its way. Angrily. With an axe. Little wonder it took umbrage after that.” She watched with a bemused smirk for a moment as Swan considered this. “Tell me, Venator: when was the last time a creature in this kingdom actively went after <em>you</em>? Not your horse, not one of the men stupid enough to be travelling with you. You, alone?”</p><p> </p><p>Swan frowned as she considered. The pair of nothics last week, she’d stumbled upon as they were attacking a villager who’d wandered too close to the border. The manticore before that had gone after Bug as he was grazing. The ankhegs before these had sprung up from the ground not far from her, but they’d been going after an elk. The bulette had charged headlong at a younger Venator she’d found, only on their third foray into the Southlands… So that would have made it…. She wracked her mind, trying to think of the last time she herself had been directly attacked.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t remember, dear? Or could it possibly be that they <em>never</em> have?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not…” Still, Swan was having trouble finding an answer. “I…” She slowly looked back at the Evil Queen, mind still wracking for an answer. “..Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you finally ready for your answer? Be sure now, I don’t like being interrupted.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan looked around the camp, watching for any sign of danger. They had three men on watch, and she’d told everyone specifically of the will ‘o wisps. For the moment, everything seemed peaceful. “I asked you about the curse. You said there isn’t one. Earlier with Queen Snow, you called it a corruption. So tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. But first let’s stop dancing around one another,<em> princess</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan froze where she lay, like a wounded fawn. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Please, dear. I’ve known from the moment you came before me. My question is when you figured it out. Was it years ago, when you first heard the tale of the Evil Queen and the poor lost princess?” She smirked. “Or was it far more recently? Perhaps when Queen Snow White herself was not three feet from you and made reference to a certain bracelet?” She gave a long, pointed look at Swan’s Venator pendant, then slowly raised her glance up to meet her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Her breath would not come to her. She sat, frozen, only able to take small sips of the air, suddenly grown much hotter around them. Her slit pupils were blown wide, sweat was trickling down her back. “I’m not…”</p><p> </p><p>“You are. But feel free to deny it, if you makes you happy. I’ll even distract you, dear. I still have a story for you, after all.” Regina looked her square in the eye and began to speak. The tale picked up shortly after her last one. Finding the Dark Curse. An attack on the castle the very night Snow went into labor. A near-fatal wound to her idiot shepherd prince as he fought with his infant daughter in one arm. The feeling of victory, at last, when he fell steps away from the… closet? he was trying to put the baby into and she swept in, taking the infant out of his arms and holding her to her own chest.</p><p> </p><p>In her state of almost-panic, Swan blinked and shook her head. It seemed like she could almost see the images Regina was describing. She felt herself frown. When had she started calling her ‘Regina’?</p><p> </p><p>The voice was low and quiet, this story meant only for Swan’s ears but she could hear every word of it. “The Darkness of my curse was closing in around us. I could feel my victory in my grasp, just as real as the baby in my arms… and you were an adorable little thing. A mop of blonde hair, from your father. But those eyes… those eyes were all her. I couldn’t stand looking at them. Fortunately, you were so young, so impressionable. A bit of magic and I darkened them to match my own, then took you back to my castle. I was going to raise you as my own, taking the thing Snow loved most and turning you into something… something that was mine. Something to replace the endless possibilities of happiness that she stole from me.”</p><p> </p><p>Feeling drugged or under some spell, Swan could only listen, the images that were being described playing out in her mind’s eye so vividly that she could see the color of that magic as it had crept into her vision and changed her eyes… she could see the face of the most beautiful woman in the world laughing and smiling down at her as she was being swept away in a fog of purple, the sounds of muffled shouts becoming only dim background noise.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d accounted for everything, dear,” came Regina’s voice again, whispered like honey in her ears. “Except you.  You had magic of your own. I should have expected it, of course. A child of True Love. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. When the curse came, your magic activated. Blew back the Curse in a shockwave as if it were just smoke and noise. I was thrown to the ground.”</p><p> </p><p>And she could see that too. A great force of Darkness enclosing, coming crashing down on them. A sudden feeling of all-encompassing fear, the likes of which she’d never felt, and then a blinding flash of light. Pale blue streaked with gold in all directions, shooting through the darkness and eating away at it much like the acid of the ankhegs. Then quiet, loneliness and quiet. Quiet that stretched and stretched.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually broken by the arrival of… something very sparkly. Something she knew instantly she didn’t like. Actually, she could feel the same thing in the air right now.</p><p> </p><p>Swan’s eyes snapped open (when had she closed them?) just as Regina was saying, “I awoke to see-”</p><p> </p><p>“Blue.” She rolled closer to Regina, grasping her sword from where it lay beside her on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Swan’s eyes were looking everywhere else, darting around the entirety of their camp. “She’s here.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly alarmed, Regina began to sit up, “What?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Get down.” She pressed her free hand over Regina’s collarbone, back down to the ground as she covered the former Queen’s body with her own. “She’s here to kill you.” The sounds of men screaming began to fill the air, and the unmistakable scent of fairy dust. “She’s going to kill us all.”</p><p> </p><p>Dark eyes widened in fear. “No, Snow wouldn’t allow it… she needs me alive to find her precious son…”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think Blue cares right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“No?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I remember what happened after you blacked out.”</p><p> </p><p>She could see it so clearly. The Blue Fairy arriving first on the scene at the Evil Queen’s castle, finding the baby in Regina’s arms but Regina unconscious. The cold, calculating look in Blue’s eyes as she considered what to do. Then being ripped away from the arms of the beautiful, dark haired woman as a magic portal opened beneath her, crying, screaming, and watching as the Blue Fairy blew fairy dust over her. Screaming then, a feeling of great loss, something being pulled away, and then nothing but the swirling vortex. “She’s the one who sent me away. She’s why my parents never found me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Swan,” Regina hissed below her as the men screaming, the closed in feeling of fairy dust was almost upon them. “I need you to break these shackles.”</p><p> </p><p>But she was lost in her own mind, the sudden realizations coming to her as the amber of her eyes bled away into inky blackness. “You said she was desperate to start the Venator program again. She’s the one who convinced Snow to allow it. On her own daughter. She’s the one who tortured me and twisted me into a Venator… She probably even cast the curse on the Southlands in the first place just to -”</p><p> </p><p>She was slapped hard across the face, metal cuffs digging into her skin and blood welling beneath them. “Swan,” Regina’s voice was dark and frightened. “There <i>is</i> no curse. Break the shackles!”</p><p> </p><p>“But-”</p><p> </p><p>Dark eyes were alight in a deep purple glow. “<em>I </em>am<em> the curse</em>, Swan. It’s my <em>magic</em>, untethered from me and grown wild and uncontrolled over the last 28 years, spreading and consuming anything that isn’t me in a desperate attempt to make its way back to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“…What?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Break. The. Shackles</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“There you are!” Swan raised her weapon only just in time to deflect as a ball of fairy dust came hurtling at them both, the enchanted iron of her sword sending the powder careening off into the trees. A blast of fire lit up from where it impacted.</p><p> </p><p>“Run!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 8: Breaking the Curse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swan forced herself upwards from the dust and dirt, flames licking at her heels. Her back was screaming at her, a stripe of her tunic missing and an ugly cut running along her back. She paid it no mind- she’d had worse. “Regina!” The former queen had landed near her and was in the process of shaking her head and trying to get to her feet. Blood was running from beneath her nostrils.</p><p> </p><p>“Damned moth,” she cursed, her eyes finding it hard to focus at first. “Fire is <em>my</em> element.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan grasped her by the arm and helped pull her up. “We need to move!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Swan,” Blue’s voice cut through the sounds of fire crackling and men and horses screaming. She appeared, hovering through the flames. No jellyfish tentacles, this time. A pity, Swan had the passing thought. It might have been amusing to see those catch flame. “Such a disappointment. My greatest achievement, and here you are running around in the dark <em>saving</em> the Evil Queen. The worst monster of them all.”</p><p> </p><p>“No worse than you!”</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s wand flicked thrice in quick succession, sending blast after blast of concentrated fairy dust aimed directly at them.</p><p> </p><p>Swinging her sword wildly, Swan screamed and parried the blasts as best she could, the dust exploding in her face; but the brunt of the blows deflected and sent careening back into the forest.</p><p> </p><p>Incensed, black eyes reflected the plumes of flame; Swan went charging at the tiny fairy, “<em>You </em>put me in that portal! You wanted me to be one of your precious little experiments from the moment you laid eyes on me! You made sure I was conveniently found by a family who would keep me alive and hid me from my birth parents, and then when you were ready you came and <em>took</em> me! Tortured me!”</p><p> </p><p>“I made you strong! All that True Love potential you had within you- I knew the moment Snow announced her pregnancy you were the perfect candidate! The ultimate warrior to defeat evil! And here you are protecting it!” She turned her wand on Regina, crouched behind Swan and gasping in her breaths, her body certainly not used to running for her life. “How Snow ever decided keeping you alive was the better action has always escaped me! You should have been burned alive at birth!"</p><p> </p><p>Another blast of firey dust shot out of her hands, parried away by Swan at the last second. The Blue Fairy snarled, eyes still glaring not at Swan but at Regina behind her. "Though I will say, you were a wonderfully convenient scapegoat! ‘Oh, Snow, the Evil Queen sent your child to another realm; it’s impossible to find her!’” She mocked, her voice a hollow dark thing. “And Snow was pathetic enough to believe me. She’s always been so trusting.” She laughed, and another series of blasts fired out of her wand.</p><p> </p><p>Swan nearly dove with Regina in her arms to evade and block them. Landing flat on her back with Swan above her, Regina hissed and gasped out, “Is that enough for you yet?!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Swan was already moving to her feet, pulling Regina along with her.</p><p> </p><p>Regina almost rolled her eyes at her, “I wasn’t talking to you!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?!”</p><p> </p><p>Another, larger blast of fairy dust came flinging almost wildly at them, this time grazing against Swan’s arm in her attempt to just barely deflect it in time. Her muscles were screaming at the effort, her body tensing against the enormous weight before she flung the conpacted dust away. The boom from that blast was thunderous. Great trees shook and uprooted from their berths within the ground, the few men and horses that yet survived were weeping and screaming as their entire world was shaken from beneath them.</p><p> </p><p>A rustle from underbrush nearby, and Blue saw an opening in Swan’s defenses, throwing another blast powerful enough to scorch the earth itself into dust.</p><p>As the smoke cleared, Blue was unable to see if she’d finally managed to be successful. She flitted closer, eyes scanning the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. In the center of the smoking crater lay only a silver chain, looped over on itself. Immediately next to it, twin cuffs of enchanted metal.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s… not possible. They were sealed with blood and with intent. The only person who could remove them is…”</p><p> </p><p>“Snow White. Yes, I’m aware.” Regina’s voice suddenly sounded from all around the fairy. “Snow herself, or one of her bloodline, as long as Snow herself was intent upon releasing them. A very clever bit of magic indeed.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue whirled around, eyes wild, glancing about to all sides to find the source of the voice. “Snow would never agree to you being freed!”</p><p> </p><p>“No?” Regina stepped out of the smoking tree line, no longer afraid, her eyes dark and her posture poised like a serpent ready to strike. “Not even if she were watching everything we’re doing- hearing every word you’re saying?” The light of the fires all around them glinted from the hollow of Regina’s throat, revealing a pendant that had not been there while she was imprisoned. A mirror. The smile she leveled at the stupefied fairy was predatory. “As you’ll recall, I did have conditions before coming on this journey, bug. One of them was to ensure dear Snow would be watching me. You can imagine she was quick to agree.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue seemed to shake off whatever stupor had held her frozen for those precious seconds, snarling and raising her wand. “You monster!”</p><p> </p><p>A small gesture with one hand, and portions of the fires that blazed were drawn to Regina’s hand, flickering, tiny and seemingly ill-contained into a single burning ball of fire. She frowned at it, at its weakness, but threw it nonetheless. It sputtered and sparked, a weakly vague shape of a cage of flames springing into place around Blue and the magic she was summoning. It was crude, but effective enough to stop the blast before it could strike.</p><p> </p><p>Irritated but unphased, Regina stalked forwards. “Rheul Ghorm. You have trespassed upon my kingdom and attempted murder upon myself and visiting royalty. You have committed acts of high treason. For these crimes, you are sentenced to death.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue laughed in her face. “You can barely control a fireball, <em>your majesty</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Regina’s eyes flashed at her mocking tone, her lips sneered. Beneath their feet, the earth began to quake.</p><p> </p><p>One of her eyes was swollen and she was bleeding from several places, but Swan still hissed and managed to stumble to her feet to draw her silver axe. “Ankhegs?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Regina reached out to still Swan's hand, looking not to the ground but to the horizon. She inhaled deeply and then smiled, turning back to the captive Blue Fairy. “It does seem oddly fitting. You were there when my magic was ripped from me. You should be here when it fully returns.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue could only stare in rising horror with mouth agape as a roiling storm cloud of purple magic came howling towards them. It descended like a tsunami, a boiling rage of purple clouds flashing with silver lightning striking from within, great booms of thunder shaking the limbs of the fallen trees.</p><p> </p><p>The immense <em>power</em> of it slammed into the three of them, centered on Regina who fell staggering to her knees as the wave crashed not onto but <em>into</em> her, her lips falling open in a silent scream. The storm <em>poured</em> into her mouth. Magic that had roamed the entire breadth of the Southlands came roaring back into her in a matter of moments, and in its wake the earth sprung up behind it, trees flew into the air, creatures twisted and corrupted were thrown to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>A smaller portion separated out of the main thunderous cloud, not purple but pale blue and gold. It hurled itself into Swan- the portion of her own innate magic that had been ripped away in infancy, just before being thrown into the portal. She screamed, tears streaming unbidden down her eyes as power the likes of which she'd never dreamed of knowing shunted into her like a dam breaking.</p><p> </p><p>And everything around them went black.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The celebrations have been going on for <em>days</em>. All the wonderous festivity of the Princes’ Nameday celebration, magnified a thousandfold. Proclamations have made it to every part of Snow White’s kingdom by now, and the entire land is celebrating not only the end of curse on the Southlands, but the return of Lost Princess Emma, escorted home by her brother Leopold.</p><p> </p><p> If one were to ask said Princess, she would likely say that the whole affair is interminable.</p><p> </p><p> In the beginning, Snow White is quick to flash smiles that could dazzle an entire hall and to remind her that everything is in the past, and the only thing that matters is that now she’s finally home with her family. The princess herself, however, finds it difficult to reconcile the years of torture and the deaths of the possibly hundreds of children just like her that her mother had authorized.</p><p> </p><p>For all her smiles, Snow does notice. And while the kingdom itself rejoices, she watches her daughter putting up glamours to hide pointed ears and white hair and inhuman eyes, and she knows too well the signs of someone fading behind a mask.</p><p> </p><p>Snow herself uses the festivities to issue several quiet proclamations: The Venator program is dissolved. The rest of the fairies are banished from Snow’s kingdom, curiously missing their leader. (The Rheul Ghorm, in fact, has strangely not been seen at all since the return of the Lost Princess.) </p><p> </p><p>In the dungeons beneath the castle, a certain cell at the end of the corridor with bars like jagged teeth remains empty. To those who had known that it had not always been so, Queen Snow has issued another quiet order: Regina, the Former Evil Queen, is officially paroled. There has been no word from her; nor sightings, and the mirror pendant has long since stopped working. Brave souls who have managed to make their way through the healed Southlands tell her that lights have recently been seen in the Castle of the former Evil Queen. She contents herself with the knowledge that if Regina still wanted her dead, she would know it by now. Subtlety has never been Regina's strong suit. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Snow comes to another decision, and calls her daughter to her study. She is tired and knows she must look it. She has spent the last forty years of her life under attack, and there is age worn into her face and grey in her hair to prove it. She inhales as her daughter sits. “What I have to say will not be easy for me, and I ask that you allow me to finish it without interruption, if you can."</p><p> </p><p>An eyebrow raises- blonde, as Swan currently wears the glamor preferred for her in the palace, but she nods.</p><p> </p><p>Taking in a deep breath, Snow lets it out again and seems to fight the urge to pace before she starts. "...I learned a long time ago that despite your best intentions, love alone does not heal the pain you cause. And that just because you love someone doesn’t mean they will ever love you back.” She sighs, looking up at her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>"Being Queen means having to make hard decisions, not just for yourself or for the kingdom as it stands, but for a future generation- the children in your kingdom. Giving those future generations their best chance. I ...took bad advice. I was manipulated into doing so, yes, but ultimately <em>I </em>was fully aware and responsible for the decisions I made. And ...I failed the children of this kingdom. And I failed <em>you.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Her hands twitch, as if they desperately want to curl around her daughter's shoulders, but she does not move to do so. Instead she inhaled, slowly. "Being a parent means giving your children their best chance, and not your own. I did that for Leo... but I failed you. I can’t expect you to play out a farce of a life to assuage my guilt.”</p><p> </p><p>Fingers stretch out again, but they still. She knows enough to hold herself back. “You are a daughter of this kingdom. You will never want for material needs. But I will not force you to be someone you are not. Nor to play a role as my daughter.”</p><p> </p><p>Her daughter blinks at her, feeling something well up in her chest, but she can only give a nod. The glamour she has been holding onto falls away, the color bleaching out of her hair, the roundness in her eyes vanishing.</p><p> </p><p>There are tears welling in the eyes of the Queen, but she does not cry.  “…I grant you your freedom from any obligations to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Swan, not Emma, rises from her chair and hesitantly, <em>awkwardly,</em> wraps her arms around the woman who has twice made her what she is. It is one of only a handful of hugs she can actually remember, and it is perhaps the most meaningful.</p><p> </p><p>Then she saddles up Bug and leaves the palace.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Just across the border to the kingdom, the former Venator Swan stops and sits in the tall grass on a hill in the Southlands. The grass is lush and green, the trees climbing straight and tall and near to bursting with fruit, the lands fertile beneath them and ready for tilling. Nearby, Bug grazes, happily munching on the tender shoots.</p><p> </p><p> She relaxes, enjoying these lands unspoiled and without fear of basilisk or ankheg to bear down upon her. It is relatively silent, which she enjoys. There had been so little silence in the palace. She reaches out with her magic (both familiar to her and strange, on a scale she's not used to, but able to keep a handle on at least for now) and senses the leylines of a dozen tiny sources of other magic around her, and she smiles. </p><p> </p><p>After a time, though her eyes are closed, she senses through the leylines the arrival of a familiar presence beside her. The shifting of skirts and the bending of grassblades beneath a seated form. “Rather difficult to admire the view with your eyes closed, little Swan. Or is it Emma, now?”</p><p> </p><p>Fingers lightly brush together in the grass- the smallest bit of physical contact. Their leylines cross. A shiver passes between them. </p><p> </p><p>Amber eyes finally open, looking out at the rolling hills. “Still Swan. I’ll never be Emma. That life is not for me.”</p><p> </p><p> “Mmmn. No.” A soft chuckle. “Though it is amusing to think of you gathering wildflowers and singing to forest creatures.”</p><p> </p><p>Their eyes meet. “And what of you, your Majesty? Do you intend to raise an army and go back to war?”</p><p> </p><p>A pause, and then a sigh. “My magic waged war for thirty years without me. I think that’s enough for now. Or at the very least I’ll let Snow fall into complacency before I decide if I’m going to continue it.” Her lips curl into a smile, but there is enough of a jest to her tone to not cause concern.</p><p>"Besides, I have missed so much of life being trapped in a box. I have much to catch up on." She leans back on both of her arms.</p><p> </p><p>Swan draws in a slow breath. Regina has always been the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. Now, with no bars between them nor threat of impending doom, and with the light of the sun shining down on her, she looks too beautiful to be human. Her gaze lingers a little too long, Regina's lounging position causing certain… assets of the dress she’s wearing to become far more pronounced. Swan finds her lips suddenly dry, her tongue attempts to wet them. She clears her throat. “And… will you go back to trying to steal her children?”</p><p> </p><p>Her staring has not gone unnoticed. The smile on dark lips becomes far more... feral in nature. “That depends, dear. Perhaps one of her children is… interested in being stolen?”</p><p> </p><p>In the grass, their fingers brush together again, another jolt passes through them both as their leylines cross. </p><p> </p><p> 

The slight bit of flush to cheeks unused to any conversations of this sort. Swan is not innocent, by any means, but as has been mentioned before: she is largely a creature of action, not a grand conversationalist. “...You know, I’ve still never seen your castle, or that view from your balcony window.”</p><p> </p><p> An eyebrow raises, another slow smile, and the whispering shuffle of tall grass as bodies move closer together. A moment later all that remains are two plumes of smoke floating softly away on the breeze.</p><p> </p><p> And then, seconds later, the belabored whinny of a surprised horse, as it, too, disappears in smoke.</p><p> </p><p> Deep purple and silver, perfectly intwined with gold and blue.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>FIN</strong>
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